The Future Imperfect
by loubug14
Summary: A prank gone awry sends Sirius Black twenty years into the future, where Voldemort is dead, McGonagall is Headmistress of Hogwarts, and Slytherins don't completely suck. Mostly light-hearted AU. M for coarse language.
1. Prologue: The Departure

"C'mon Padfoot, we need to go."

James was whispering, but he hoped the urgency of his whisper intimated to his friend that it was time to get fucking gone. Their prank may have been a good-natured one—decorating their favorite professor and Head of House's office for Yule seemed innocuous compared to some of their other efforts over the last seven years—but they were still breaking into a professor's office, and that was generally frowned upon. Moreover, they'd broken through some serious wards on the office door and desk to accomplish their task.

The Transfiguration classroom and office were now festively decked out in the most ostentatious display of red, green, and gold to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts. Sirius had transfigured a desk into a small, singing St. Nicholas, and Remus had charmed the streamers to scroll "Happy Yule! Gryffindor Rules!" James had charmed the tinsel to multiply when someone tried to _Evanesco_ it. It was like taking their OWL practicals all over again, but this was way more fun.

Remus was hovering near the door, watching for Peter's animagus form. Remus's hearing was only helpful as a prank lookout if none of the ghosts were nearby. Peter's only issue was Mrs. Norris, and they always made sure he had an escape hole to duck into if that wretched cat found them. The werewolf turned to glance at his friends, and his eyes narrowed when he saw Sirius open one of the drawers in McGonagall's desk.

"Just going to leave Minnie a nice Yule treat!" He smiled brightly and waved a box of Ice Mice in the air; he'd picked it up the last Hogsmeade weekend, thinking it a clever nod to McGonagall's animagus form. He set the box down, meeting the bottom of the drawer much higher than he thought he would. He quirked his head, and then tapped on the bottom.

His smile changed to a more devious grin. "Oh ho, lads, I think I've just found something." He took the box of Ice Mice back out, along with various trinkets and parchments stored in the drawer.

Remus's eyes flickered to the hallway before following James to the desk. "What?"

Sirius grinned, slipped his hand under the drawer and, after a moment, popped a small latch. The false bottom of the drawer popped up to reveal a tiny storage area with six compartments. Five of the compartments held vials, and one held a delicate gold necklace.

"Those are Penseive memories," James said reverently. "I saw them used at a trial this summer when Dad took me to the Wizengamot." He stared at the swirling white mists, wondering what was so important that Professor McGonagall would store away her memories.

"I wonder what's so special about this?"

James was jolted out of his musings by Sirius, who'd slipped the gold chain around his neck and was examining the pendant on it. It looked to be made up of three circles with an hourglass etched in the middle. The hourglass shape was silver, shining in contrast to the gold necklace.

"Is that…" whispered Remus, staring at the pendant.

"What?" asked Sirius.

"A time turner," said Remus. "Pads, take it off. Take it off now." The hair raised on the back of Remus's neck, and he felt James suck in a breath and tense up.

"Calm down, mate," drawled Sirius. "Everyone knows that the Department of Mysteries destroyed the last Time Turner during Grindelwald. It's probably an old courting gift. Did you know McGonagall was married back in the day? I bet she was a looker…" Sirius sighed and absently twisted the latch on the side of the pendant."

"Sirius, I think you should take it off," James said softly.

"Code names only, Prongs!" admonished Sirius. "Fine. I can't believe you boys have your knickers in a twist over some stupid necklace."

And Remus watched as Sirius flicked the circles forward in frustration, and then the circles turned.

And turned and turned and turned.

And then the necklace was gone. And so was Sirius.


	2. The Arrival

It was nearing one in the morning, and Hermione Granger was so over patrolling.

She didn't know what it was about the beginning and end of term—if she had her way, she'd be studying—but students went crazy the last week of classes. So far she had evicted six couples from various classrooms and broom closets, taken points from a pair of fourth years trying to sneak down to the kitchens, and taken one very sick first year to Madame Pomfrey.

That's what happens when you give eleven year olds unlimited access to dessert tables, Hermione thought testily as she remembered the mountains of sugar at the annual Yule Feast.

She was making her way back to the Head dorm when she heard a commotion in the Transfiguration classroom.

Part of her wanted to let it go—it was two minutes until one, when she could safely say she was no longer on patrol duty. But Hermione wasn't Head Girl for nothing, so she sighed heavily and pushed open the door.

"Lumos," she said, waving her wand toward the front of the room.

The classroom was empty, but the door to the office was ajar and Hermione heard muttering coming from the room.

"Professor?" she called.

"Shit," a voice muttered. She frowned, marched forward, and threw open the door.

On the floor, amidst the remains of a smashed desk chair, was a handsome boy in a Gryffindor tie who Hermione did not recognize.

And that was a shock because, as Head Girl, Hermione considered it her duty to know all of the students at Hogwarts.

She pointed her wand at the stranger. "Who are you?"

The boy eyed her warily. "Who are you?" he responded shortly.

The curly-haired witch huffed. "Head Girl, that's who. And you're out after curfew." She surveyed the damage and sent a quick Reparo to the chair, which righted itself. "Come on, then."

Sirius followed her out of the office and through the classroom. "Very funny, lady, but you're not Head Girl," he said. "I know the Head Girl. She's my best mate's bird."

"Funny, as I'm decidedly single," Hermione deadpanned. "Still, I assure you, I am Head Girl." She walked down the hall, checking to make sure he was still behind her.

She was heading toward Gryffindor tower rather than toward the Headmaster's office, he thought with some relief. That meant he wasn't really in trouble, but he had to admit he was already pretty uneasy.

He didn't recognize the girl in front of him, although he guess someone could have taken Polyjuice while he was stunned or confunded. More importantly, though, was that everything about her seemed a bit off: the cut of her robes, the length of her skirt, the style of her hair. He made a habit of observing women, and this woman carried herself differently than the girls he knew.

She was pretty, though, in her own determined way. Her hair was almost as dark as his, and her olive skin glowed in the torchlight. She was short—much shorter than him—and slender, but the petit witch had a presence about her that seemed to take up much more space than she actually did.

Finally, Hermione stopped abruptly and knocked on a door. While they waited for an answer, Sirius shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. "So, if you're the Head Girl, who's Head Boy?"

She shot him a look. "Potter, obviously."

Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't know this crazy bird, but maybe James could still get him out of whatever odd pickle he'd gotten himself into.

The door swung open, and a man in his late thirties, clearly exhausted and with messy dark hair appeared.

"I'm sorry Professor, but I've caught one of your students out past curfew. He's unfamiliar to me, so I didn't feel comfortable sending him back to the tower."

But the Head of Gryffindor didn't respond to her. His brown eyes grew wide, shocked at the boy standing before him with a forced air of ease he knew only too well. The boy looked up and returned the older man's look with one of his own.

The older man squinted his hazel eyes, which shone bright with confusion. "Padfoot?"

Sirius's jaw dropped. "Holy shit, Prongs?"

* * *

Hermione was immediately sent back to the Head dorms, and Sirius was ushered inside. The sitting room of James Potter's quarters was cleaner than he expected, not that he had ever really imagined how adult-Prongs would live: a pile of books and a stack of parchments were on the coffee table, but other than that it was clean.

They sat down, James on the couch and Sirius in a chair, and stared at each other for a minute. Sirius noted that James still had his glasses and messy hair, but he was bigger than he'd been at seventeen—heftier, though not by a lot. His face was hardened, and there was a scar on his left cheek. More importantly, the man had, at some point, shifted his wand out of its holster and now had it surreptitiously pointed at Sirius.

"Are you really Sirius Black?" James narrowed his eyes.

Sirius smiled and shifted to Padfoot, knowing that was the only way he'd ever truly convince the man of his identity.

James breathed out a sigh of relief and holstered his wand. "Thank fuck." Then James reached to grab his friend in a fierce hug.

"Merlin, Prongs, you got old." Sirius didn't know what else to say. He knew this was his friend in front of him, but acknowledging that also meant acknowledging he was… well, he was in the future.

"It's been twenty years, Pads," James said, releasing his friend. "Shit, so much has happened…"

"That's an understatement." The voice came from behind Sirius, who turned to look over his shoulder.

Just as there was no question that James Potter had answered the door, there was no mistaking the red hair and green eyes of Lily.

"Evans?" She was wrapped in a thin cotton robe that fell to her knees, and her long hair was loosely braided. She stood barefoot, weight on one leg, with a hand at her hip. She was wearing that same skeptical look she wore when the Marauders promised her they weren't up to anything—which usually a lie.

"Potter, now, actually," she walked forward and sat next to James on the couch.

Sirius looked at his old friend and winked. "Well done, Prongs. Finally got the girl."

James shifted nervously. "Yeah."

"No thanks to you, Sirius," Lily bit out. "It was all I could do to pull James out of his depression after you disappeared. He didn't eat. He didn't sleep. Hell, he didn't want to have sex. He just laid there, mourning his best friend who stupidly put on a goddam time turner and flicked it! What the fuck were you thinking?"

Sirius's eyes went wide. The only time he'd ever heard Lily curse was when Snivellus called her a mudblood fifth year. She'd torn him a new one when he posted up outside the Gryffindor common room, and all the Marauders had watched with glee as she dressed down her former friend.

"Fuck," murmured James. "I need to go get Minerva."

Sirius's blood ran cold. "Now, let's not be hasty…"

Unbidden, the Floo flared and a voice called out. "James? Lily?"

Sirius would recognize that Scottish brogue anywhere.

"Yes, Minerva?" answered Lily.

"There's a disturbance in the wards I can't account for. Can you meet me in the Great Hall? I want the faculty to sweep the castle and…"

"Actually, Minerva, if you could come through I think we can explain that disturbance," said Lily evenly.

The fire flared and Sirius saw former Head of House—older, but not less formidable than he remembered. She took stock of the room; her eyes narrowed on him and she marched forward. She threw her hand out, palm up.

"Give. Me. My. Time Turner."

Cheeks flaring, Sirius lifted the golden necklace around his head and dropped it in McGonagall's hands. She murmured an incantation and dropped it in a pocket of her dress.

"You never did explain why you had one, Minerva," said Lily. "I thought they'd all been destroyed during the war with Grindelwald."

Minerva just stared at Lily until the redhead finally averted her eyes. After a moment, she turned to Sirius.

"I don't even know where to begin with you, Mr. Black." She looked at him, and he saw anger and disappointment in her eyes, but also no small amount of relief.

"When am I?" he asked.

"The year is 1997. It is, to the day, twenty years since you disappeared. You're still at Hogwarts, obviously." James's voice was soft, forlorn even, as he realized how much time had been taken from his friend. Years he'd been lost to the time turner, while everyone else grew up.

"You married Evans. Kids?"

"Three. Our oldest, Harry, is Head Boy…"

"That's the Potter that bird was talking about! I thought she meant you—"

"Stop."

Everyone turned to look at Lily.

"We can't tell him anything." She frowned at Sirius. "He has to go back. This kind of anomaly—it's dangerous to mess with time."

Minerva shook her head. "Lily, think about all that has happened—think about our world. Even the smallest change in the timeline then could alter events drastically. Think about how Sirius's presence could change everything. I'm not willing to risk things turning out worse than they already did."

"They could be better…"

"They could be so much worse," Minerva snapped. "Other things could change. Time is complicated. Perhaps you and James would never get together, and your children would never be born. Perhaps Voldemort would win." The Potters blanched at that thought and Minerva turned to the young wizard. "No, Mr. Black, I'm afraid you're here for good."

Sirius watched the exchange, fury growing in his chest. "Does anyone care what I think?"

"No," all three responded.

Sirius sat back and petulantly crossed his arms. "Tossers."

"After we graduated, war broke out. Open war," explained Lily. She glanced down, and sadly whispered, "A lot of people died."

Sirius's eyes went wide, and he looked at James. "Remus? Pete?"

Lily spit hatefully at the floor. James sighed.

"Remus is alive. He's here, actually. He teaches Defense, and has since the end of the war. The students love him. Pete is dead."

"Good riddance," murmured Minerva.

"He was a Death Eater spy," explained James.

"No," whispered Sirius, tears gathering in his eyes. "No!"

"There was a prophecy about our son," said Lily. "Voldemort wanted us dead, Harry included, and Pete told him where to find us."

"I don't believe you!" screamed Sirius, jumping up from his chair, tears openly falling now. James went to his friend and hugged him. Sirius broke down in heaving sobs, grasping at his friend's shirt.

Pete had lived with them for years—he knew about Sirius's home life, about Remus's furry little problem. Sirius remembered when Pete finally worked up the courage to ask Mary MacDonald—a Muggle-born the year under them in Gryffindor—to Hogsmeade, and how he'd smiled for days when she said yes. Sirius had comforted the tender-hearted boy when Mary had eventually dumped him four months later.

"I saw him," said James. "I saw him with Voldemort, when they came for us." James slowly led his friend back to the sitting area; Lily had relocated to Sirius's abandoned chair, so the two wizards sat on the sofa.

"Why?" sniffled the boy.

"No one knows, and it doesn't matter. Pads, he was happy to serve Voldemort. He was smiling when he walked up to our house the night they came. He was grinning."

"I can't… This is too much," the boy heaved through his tears.

"Quite right," said Minerva. "You need to rest, Mr. Black. I'll expect you in my office after lunch, and we'll figure out what to do with you." She rose and headed toward the Floo. "James, Lily, I'd like him to stay here for the night."

"Of course," said Lily.

"Mr. Black?" Sirius looked up at his favorite teacher and his Head of House. Minerva had been something of a grandmother to him, and for all the trouble he'd given her as a student he'd loved the old woman. She was angry—rightfully so—and he was afraid he'd disappointed her beyond repair.

But then the witch smiled softly. "I am glad to see you. You could've sent yourself back to the Dark Ages, you know, and the years of the Black Plague were not a pleasant time for anyone."

* * *

Lily had plied Sirius with a sleeping draught almost immediately after Minerva left, and Sirius had spent the night on their sofa; the redhead had warded the door to their quarters before going to bed, intent that no one would discover Sirius and that Sirius would not be able to leave without them when he woke.

It was nearly 10 when Sirius opened his eyes to muttering voices around the small table at the edge of the room.

There was a pause, and then a familiar voice called, "You know I can hear the changes in your breathing, Padfoot, so don't try to even pretend you're still asleep."

Sirius shot up and nearly fell off of the sofa. "Moony?"

He rubbed his bleary eyes and took in the tall man before him. Remus had grown out his light brown hair and had a trim, neat beard. He was also much more muscular—a stark cry from the skinny boy he'd known at Hogwarts.

"Holy shit, Moony."

Remus chuckled. "I know, I know. I'm an old man."

"A hot old man."

"Oi!" cried James.

Remus rolled his eyes and handed his friend a cup of tea. "Yeah, that's Padfoot all right."

Sirius sat down and took a sip of tea. Once he'd set the cup down and swallowed, Remus smacked the back of his head.

"Ow! What the fuck!"

"I told you to take off that damn time turner. You're a raging pain in the ass, you know that." Remus pulled the boy near him for a hug and dropped a kiss on his forehead. "I've missed you, you bloody wanker."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "You're not going to yell at me?"

Remus shrugged. "Maybe later. James Flooed me last night, and I came over and checked on you while you were passed out. Then I raged in my office for a little while and drank a fifth of firewhisky. I feel a bit better now."

Sirius snorted. "You can't get drunk, you stupid werewolf."

"It was still pretty cathartic. Anyway, we figured we'd stay in here for breakfast and catch you up while the students got ready for the Express. They're heading home for Yule today."

Sirius nodded and took another sip of tea. A Hogwarts elf popped in with a tray of holiday breakfast treats: fruit and scones and toast with mulberry jam and sausages. Sirius was famished and wanted to inhale the spread immediately, but his aristocratic training took over and he began the slow task of filling his plate.

"So, are you married as well?" Sirius asked, looking at Remus.

The werewolf grinned. "Bonded. I hope it won't break your heart that I stole your first love."

Sirius's eyes went wide. "Prewett?"

Remus nodded. "We bonded almost fifteen years ago, shortly after the end of the war." Remus stirred his tea. "Gideon was murdered by Death Eaters, and Fabian didn't want to risk losing another bond if… if I didn't survive the war. He barely survived losing his twin, so we waited."

"Kids?"

Remus shook his head. "I teach, so I've got more kids than I know what do with. Plus, his sister has seven kids, and Prongs and Lily have three, so we get the best of both worlds: we're the cool uncles that hang out until the little ones get grating, and then we leave."

"You absolutely had the right of it," said James. "Merlin, I love my kids, but they drive me spare."

"You said you had three…" started Sirius, his inflection noting that it was more of a question than a statement.

"Harry, who I told you about last night, is the oldest. Dorea is a fourth year, and…" James paused. "Orion is a first year."

Sirius blinked. "Orion?" His chest grew tight.

"I couldn't handle calling my son by your name everyday, so it was the best I could do," James said, a little embarrassed. "Orion Remus Potter."

"I'm godfather to all three," said Remus softly.

"Merlin." Sirius stared at his tea for a long while, processing the news. James had named his kid after him. Names meant a lot in the wizarding world—it was why the Blacks were so fanatical about their naming traditions—and the weight of the honor wasn't lost on the young wizard.

Lily cleared her throat. "Sirius, we think we should catch you up on what's happened, as much as possible, before lunch. The kids will be there, as well as a handful of students staying over for part of the holiday. Mostly OWL students, so you won't need to interact with them, but I know Hermione will be there as well. She'll Floo to her parents tonight."

Sirius threw her a questioning look.

"The witch who found you last night."

He nodded. "She reminds me a bit of you, Evans." He grinned at her. "Mean."

Lily laughed. "It's Potter, remember? Hermione Granger is a good witch, and I won't have you bothering her with any of your nonsense. But, more importantly, she's smart as a whip and liable to ask you a thousand questions. We need to figure out what you can and can't tell people."

He shrugged. "Hell, change my name for all I care. I can't imagine my family gives a flying fuck that I've gone missing."

"Goddammit," muttered Remus, looking at James. "He's…"

"I know." James cut off his friend quickly. "We'll get there."

* * *

An hour later, Sirius was glaring at the two men. "What do you mean I'm Head of the fucking Black family?"

"Your father died shortly after the war," said James. "Walburga kicked the bucket a few years ago—may she burn in Muggle hell—and Regulus…"

"Was a spy for the Order? I don't believe that for a second."

"We fought with him and Severus at the Battle for Godric's Hollow," said Remus. "I saw your brother kill Lucius Malfoy before Bellatrix _Avada_ -d him."

"Fucking cunt," muttered Sirius. "She's dead?"

James nodded. "That one is on me. I feel like I should offer you my condolences."

"I'm more likely to kiss you for it, but I think Evans would get mad."

"Potter," the witch corrected tersely.

"I know Narcissa took Draco, her son, to try and open the Black vault after Walburga died; he would've been the next male descendent of the Black family. The goblins denied him entrance," said James. "They told him that the Patriarch of the House of Black was alive, but lost."

"We though it meant Orion had a bastard somewhere out there," said James, "but in light of you being here… Well, you'll need to go to Gringotts sooner rather than later, to check for certain."

"Dammit," said Sirius. "I don't want it. I was happy to step aside and let Regulus be heir."

"Regulus didn't want it either," said Lily softly. "When your parents banished you—that's when he saw what was really happening—the Voldemort was tearing the wizarding world apart, setting brother against brother and destroying families. But he knew that he was situated to fight from inside, so he went to Dumbledore before he was ever Marked, knowing that he'd eventually be brought to Voldemort by Lucius. He eventually turned Severus to spy as well." She laid her hand on Sirius's. "Regulus always considered you his brother, and he was heartbroken when you disappeared."

"McGonagall made us swear on our magic to keep the secret of what had happened, but I'd already told Lily," said James. "So she made Lily swear as well. We weren't able to tell him about the time turner, but it didn't matter because we didn't know when you'd end up."

A silence descended over the group, as though they didn't know what to say next. Sirius was overwhelmed, not only by the sheer amount of information but by a maelstrom of emotions. Finding out his brother was dead, but for the Light, and that he was the Patriarch of his miserable family, was an emotional clusterfuck, and that was really only the iceberg of what they'd revealed.

Remus sighed heavily. "You should hear it from me, Padfoot." He sat up straight and looked at his friend hard. "I killed Pete."

Sirius froze. It had just gotten so, so much worse.

"He was after Harry, who was all of fifteen months old at the time. They wanted to sacrifice my godson. I saw him disapparate in the middle of battle and got a sinking feeling. I went to my cottage, where we'd stashed Lily and Harry, and found him trying to dismantle the wards." Remus paused, watching his friend process the information. "I eviscerated him, Padfoot. It wasn't quick, and it wasn't merciful. I stood over him and watched as he bled out, begging for his life the whole time. I have never once regretted it."

"Fucking hell, Moony." Sirius felt like he was going to be sick. "Who else?"

"Anyone else for Voldemort is either dead or in Azkaban, including the Carrows, Lestranges, Walden McNair, and Crouch Junior." said James. "On our side? Gideon Prewett, which you know. Dumbledore died in the backlash of the curse that killed Voldemort…"

"I though you said Harry had to kill Voldemort?" asked Sirius.

"That's what Voldemort thought too. Hell, that's what Dumbledore thought until the moment he died. But prophecies are often self-fulfilling. Voldemort marked Harry by singling him out—he could've done the same thing to Neville Longbottom, but he didn't. And the power the Dark Lord knew not…"

"It's dark magic, not black magic, and while frowned upon it was perfectly legal." Lily's voice was clipped, and it sounded she was tired of repeating that phrase over and over again.

"Lily found a blood ritual in the Potter library and warded Harry. Lily is the recipient of any magic used against Harry. If someone threw an Avada at him, she'd die instead." James looking at his wife in with pride, fear, and a clear bit of anger.

"Teaching him Defense has been a bitch," said Remus morosely.

"And the rest of it?" asked Sirius.

"Dumbledore was defending Harry—we all were," said James. "Technically we were acting on his behalf, since he was too young, and that could be interpreted as us working as his hands. The last bit? Neither would live a full life: Voldemort would always be obsessed with Harry, and Harry would always be on the run from Voldemort."

"Fucking prophecy," Remus muttered. "Sybil may have the Sight, but she's never really focused on cultivating her gift. Just spouting off nonsense and then wandering toward the liquor cabinet."

"Isn't that was Seers do?" asked Sirius.

"Pandora Lovegood was much better at equivocating her visions. She'd often talk about prophecies as metaphors—like the hand thing—to discourage people from building their lives around them." Lily sighed. "I miss her."

Remus nodded his head his head in agreement. "Pandora didn't die in the war, though; that was later. But Marlene McKinnon was killed shortly after graduation, as was Mary MacDonald." He glanced at James.

James cleared his throat. "We think Pete killed Mary as his Death Eater initiation."

Sirius blinked back tears. "He never did get over her."

"And it turned ugly," said Remus. "Alice Brown married Frank Longbottom, but she died in battle. Their son Neville is in Harry's year, and Frank is Fabian's partner in the DMLE."

Sirius looked at Lily. "Shit."

She nodded. "I'm the last Gryffindor girl from our year. The war stole everyone else."

"The rest of our dead are people from the Order, so you won't know them, or Aurors that would've been much older than us. No one else you know, although there were plenty of injuries." James grinned and pointed to the scar on his cheek. "Remember Amos Diggory? A few years older than us? He lost a leg and an eye at the Battle for Godric's Hollow. He's dressed as a pirate for every Halloween party since."

Sirius barked out a laugh. "I always liked Amos."

There was a knock on the door, and Sirius tensed when it opened.

"Mum? Dad? I thought you were coming…" Bright green eyes widened as they took in the three adults and young man seated at the table.

Harry furrowed his brow; his parents never brought students back to their quarters. Maybe the kid had missed the train? "Sorry, I just thought I'd see you at lunch. Didn't meant to interrupt."

Harry started to back out of the room, but stopped when he heard the young man exclaim, "What the fuck Prongs? Your kid is a _Slytherin_?"


	3. The Next Day

Their table in the Great Hall was unusually quiet. James, Lily, Remus, and Sirius had followed Harry to lunch; Lily had chastised Sirius for his outburst in the way only Lily Evans could, and Sirius was still reeling from it.

"You've been gone for twenty years, Sirius Black, and if you say one word against my son because of the color of his tie I will _end you_."

Sirius wasn't happy about her admonishment, but he'd offered Harry a begrudgingly apologetic handshake.

The group joined a table that housed two miniatures of James and Lily and another familiar witch.

"Hello," said Hermione, as Sirius sat across from her. "Are you sorted, then?"

"Mostly," the wizard responded. He smiled his most charming smile at her; she may have been one mean witch, but she was still a witch and Sirius Black wasn't known as a rake for nothing. "I'm Sirius Black."

Hermione's eyes went slightly wide, but otherwise she remained indifferent. "Hermione Granger."

"A pleasure," he said in a low voice. He sat down and started plating his food. Harry was seated between Hermione and his mother, and Sirius sat to the left of James and Remus.

"Did everything run smoothly this morning?" James asked, smiling at Hermione. It was hard to see James as a professor—and definitely not as Head of Gryffindor House—but Sirius had to admit he wore it well.

Hermione nodded. "Aside from the usual, there were no issues at all."

"Good, good," said James. Then he awkwardly added. "That's good."

Sirius rolled his eyes.

"So, Mr. Black," said Hermione, fiddling with the salad in front of her. "How did you come to be at Hogwarts?"

Sirius shrugged. "Same as most, I suppose. An owl delivered my letter."

Hermione hummed in response. "Yes, I'm sure. But what I meant was, how did you come to be at Hogwarts now, when you were supposed to graduate twenty years ago?"

The adults all stopped eating.

She looked around, incredulous. "What, it's a surprise? How many missing heirs to Ancient and Noble Houses are there in the wizarding world? Never mind that _his_ boyfriend"—she pointed to Harry—"is my best friend, so I know all about the Marauders. How many Sirius Blacks can there be?"

"Three," said Sirius. "Technically I'm Sirius Black the Third. Sirius Black the Second is my great-grandfather, and Sirius the First died as a child."

"Are you…"

"No!" cried the adults.

"…serious?" finished Hermione.

Sirius grinned. "Always, love." He winked at her, and she rolled her eyes.

"So, how did you come to be here now? Time turner?" Hermione took a bite of her salad and looked at the wizard expectantly. Sirius turned to Lily, who sighed and nodded.

"Yup," said Sirius. "Bit of an accident, really…"

Remus scoffed softly.

"… but all that is water under the bridge now, and the time turner is safely out of my hands."

"Hmm." Hermione took another bite of her salad and swallowed. "Will you be joining us next term, then? I understand you never graduated."

Sirius cocked his head. "I don't know. I imagine I'll talk with McGonagall about it this afternoon. We have a meeting set."

Hermione nodded. "If you do come back, you should join our study group. Me, Harry, Draco, Pansy, and Neville. Between the group of us, we've got almost all NEWT level classes covered, and we're all near the top of our class."

"Hermione is a whiz at Transfiguration," said Harry. "And Neville is great at Herbology."

Harry was trying to give Sirius the benefit of the doubt, but something about the wizard rubbed him the wrong way. He'd grown up on stories of the Marauders, and it was clear his dad and Remus were thrilled that their friend had finally come back to them. But Sirius seemed to regard Harry with no small amount of suspicion and very clearly was not a fan of Slytherins. It reminded Harry of another Gryffindor he knew with similar views regarding Slytherins, and that comparison was a big red mark in Harry's book.

"Yeah, sure," said Sirius.

"Are you really Sirius Black?" asked a small voice from down table.

Sirius looked down to see a small boy—Orion Potter, Sirius told himself—staring at him from next to James. He had bright hazel eyes and dark brown hair with just a hint of red in it, and he was wearing a Gryffindor jumper and denim trousers.

Sirius nodded. "Yup. Orion, right?"

Orion nodded. "Well, Orion, I may be around for a bit, and since your brother is in Slytherin I may need someone to show me around Gryffindor. You're a Gryffindor, right?"

The boy nodded.

"Good. You think you can help me out?"

Orion smiled and nodded again.

"Excellent. I won't know anyone, so I'll need to you show me the ropes. For instance," he grinned at the boy, "are there any pretty, single girls in Gryffindor?"

"I'm single," said Dorea Potter, every bit her mother's miniature, batting her green eyes as the dark-haired wizard.

"No," said Harry.

"Absolutely not," muttered James.

"Over my dead body," said Lily.

"Hey!" cried Sirius, as Hermione stifled a laugh.

Orion furrowed his brow. "The upper year Gryffindor girls are all mean and stuck up. You should stay away from them." He thought for a moment. "If you want to date someone, you should date Hermione. She's a Ravenclaw, but she's the best and she's single." Then he turned back to his lunch.

Sirius's eyes wandered to the bushy-haired witch, who was blushing slightly. "Is that so, Hermione?"

She huffed. "Of all the things to ask! Don't you care about the professors, or how NEWTs might have changed since you've been gone?"

"If I join this study group, I imagine you will automatically catch me up," said Sirius nonchalantly. "I'm more concerned that my best friends are now teachers and I don't know a bloody soul outside of them."

Hermione frowned. "You know me. Harry." She pointed down the table. "Orion. Dorea." She rolled her eyes as the redhead batted her eyelashes at Sirius again.

Lily smacked her daughter upside the head. "Quit that. Sirius is absolutely off limits."

Sirius smiled at Dorea. "Sorry sweetheart, but you are a bit young for me. Too bad your brother looks a bit too much like James for my taste." Sirius winked at Harry.

"He's also taken," said Hermione, looking hard at Sirius.

"So very taken," Harry responded, smiling at the thought of his boyfriend.

"It's sickening, really," Hermione said playfully. "I don't know how I put up with them."

"You love us just as we love you. It really is too bad neither of us are attracted to women at all. We'd steal you away in a heartbeat if we were." Harry winked at her and Hermione grinned back.

Sirius had to endeavor to keep his mouth shut. He looked around, but none of the other table members seemed surprised by the casual exchange by seventeen year olds about forming a triad. Hell, Lily was smiling at the pair indulgently.

"Mr. Black." Sirius turned and found Professor—Headmistress—McGonagall staring down at him. "I'd like to see you in my office now."

Sirius took one last drink of his pumpkin juice and stood. James and Remus stood as well.

"We'll be joining that meeting, Minerva," said James. His voice was friendly, but brooked no room for argument. "Sirius may be of age, but that does not mean he's an adult by any stretch of the imagination."

Sirius frowned as Harry and Hermione snickered.

* * *

Sirius flopped onto a chair in the Potter's chambers threw his head back. "I need a drink."

James summoned three tumblers and a bottle of Blishen's. He poured doubles and slid one to Sirius and Remus. "Not a bloody word to Lily."

"'Course." Sirius knocked back the glass, and James nearly spit out the sip he'd taken.

"Bloody teenagers," Remus muttered, and James poured Sirius another glass—a single this time. The young wizard looked sheepish as he sipped on his second glass.

"Where is Lily?" he asked.

"She took the kids back to the Manor for the holiday. I told her we'd be along shortly."

"I'll need to go to Gringotts first," said Sirius. "I think Gornuk is the account manager, but I've never met him. Father wasn't keen to get me set up to inherit, for some odd reason," Sirius said sarcastically.

James nodded. "You sure you're good with the plan?"

Sirius nodded. "Time turner meant for Dumbledore with a compulsion charm on it that was destroyed when I arrived here? Blame it on Voldemort, who was scared of the old man? Sure, easy as pie."

Remus shook his head. "There are a lot of holes. If someone starts asking too many questions…"

"I'm a Black, Remus," said Sirius, sitting up straight. "I was raised to be a Slytherin, for all the good that upbringing did. I can lie and bend the truth as needed, and there's no reason McGonagall needs to get in trouble for what I did."

"And the rest?" asked James.

"Well, I guess I could not get my NEWTs, but that seems even dumber than picking up the time turner. All my family is gone, my friends are here—why wouldn't I stay at Hogwarts for the time being?"

"The school is different now," said Remus, staring at his firewhisky. " _Gryffindor_ is different. You can't just walk in and pick up where you left off. Things have changed a lot."

"You don't think I know that, Moony?" Sirius glowered at the werewolf. "It's been twenty years. Prongs's kid is a _Slytherin_ , of all things. Shit must have changed. I'll figure it out."

Remus nodded and finished his drink. "Need me for Gringotts?"

Sirius shook his head.

"All right. I have a mate to pick up from work and shag senseless. We'll be over tomorrow, Prongs." He stared at Sirius for a moment, then laughed and ruffled the boy's hair, much to Sirius's chagrin. "I'm so fucking glad you're back, Pads."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Sirius waved his hand. "I'm still shocked you all made it this far without me, Professor Moony."

* * *

James and Sirius left for Gringotts shortly after Remus, first Flooing to the Leaky Cauldron. James cast a slight glamour on Sirius, in case any of their former classmates were doing some last minute shopping for the holiday and discovered the return of the Black heir before he could get things squared with Gringotts.

After requesting the Black account manager, they were ushered into a private room. A goblin in a pinstripe suit joined them shortly thereafter.

"My name is Gornuk. What can I do for you today, Lord Potter?"

James gestured to Sirius and cancelled the glamour. "This is Sirius Black, Gornuk. He's come to claim his birthright."

Gornuk sat back, seemingly unperturbed by the announcement. "We'll need to verify that by blood of course, but if it is true you've caused the Horde and, more specifically, me, not small bit of irritation over the years."

"My apologies, Gornuk, but I was… indisposed," said Sirius.

The goblin snorted. "I know exactly where you were, Mr. Black, but your cousin has been most put out that she could not access the Black vaults."

Sirius rolled her eyes. "It's not like Cissa is hurting for money."

"Yes, well, that's neither here nor there. _You_ are here, and if you'll give me a moment to fetch an inheritance test I'll have you to your vault shortly."

After Gornuk left, Sirius turns to James. "I don't understand her obsession with the Black vaults."

James shrugged. "Maybe it was a pride thing. Merlin knows Bellatrix was a Lestrange only in name, and since Lucius's death Narcissa has done everything in her power to remind the wizarding world that she is a Black by birth—it carries a hell of a lot more weight than the Malfoy name. I know you hate it, Sirius, but your family name carries a lot of political clout."

Sirius rolled his eyes.

"All that aside, my gut tells me it's money. I bet the Malfoy family only gives direct descendants access to the family vault, which means Narcissa has probably been living on an allowance since Lucius died. Since Draco couldn't access that vault until his majority, getting an additional allowance as Regent for the Black heir would have alleviated her _hardship_." James's voice dripped with disdain. It was likely that the allowance for the Dowager Malfoy was more than any working person in Britain made, and the notion that it simply wasn't enough made James's blood boil—especially since he knew students with books so old they should be dust and cloaks that wouldn't keep a manticore warm.

"Remind me to make sure all that kind of bullshit is eradicated from my family trust," said Sirius. "If I ever find a witch worth settling down with, she can have the whole lot of it."

James looked sidelong at his friend. "Hermione Granger is quite the witch. Orion wasn't wrong when he pointed her out the best of the lot. By far."

"You like 'em mean and swotty, not me Prongs," said Sirius, leaning back in his chair. He schooled his voice to be completely indifferent. "But for being completely bent, Harry seems oddly territorial of her."

James looked at Sirius as if debating something within himself. "He is."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "That's it? That's awfully fucking enigmatic."

James laughed. "That's a ten Galleon word, Pads."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "I'm a prankster, not a moron." He leaned back, feigning nonchalance. "It just seems a bit much if they're just good friends."

Gornuk walked back in as James shrugged. "Not really my place to say. Ask Harry and Hermione."

The goblin sat down and shoved a parchment and small blade in front of Sirius. "All we need is a single drop."

Sirius pricked his thumb and let a drop of blood fall on the parchment. All three watched as the ink flowed on the page, slowly morphing into Sirius's identity and information, a list of inheritances and a brief rundown of those holdings, and any existent contracts on file.

"Thank fuck for that," Sirius said when no betrothal contracts appeared. He looked up at Gornuk and James. "Now what?"

Gornuk considered the boy for a moment. "Now I give you your family ring, which officially makes you Head of the Black family, and send you on your way. What you do with your inheritance and position is of no consequence to me, wizard."

"Request a detailed list of your assets, Sirius," he said. " _All_ of your assets." He shot a look at Gornuk, who snorted.

The two wizards walked out of the bank, a bulging folder of parchment under Sirius's arm and a ring with the Black family crest on his hand.

"What is this about?" asked Sirius.

"You'll want to double check if you have any goblin-made items in there. Without a detailed account, you would never know if some mysteriously went missing. Goblins wouldn't see retaking those items as stealing, since they don't believe such items should be inherited by witches or wizards." James opened the door to the Leaky, letting the slightly-glamoured Sirius through first. "Although, if you have goblin-made items that don't have real value to you or the family, it would go a long way with the Horde if you returned them. It never hurts to have a friend at Gringotts."

Sirius nodded and followed James through the Floo, landing in the familiar parlor of Potter Manor. For him, it had only been months since being there, racing their brooms over the blooms of the Potter orchards and celebrating their upcoming seventh year. Before he'd triggered the time turner, he had been planning on returning to the Manor with James for Yule.

Nothing had changed, and everything had changed.

The parlor was different—Lily's Muggle-born influence was evident in how much warmer and cozier the parlor seemed. Sirius had always thought Potter Manor seemed happy—anything was, compared to Grimmauld—but Charlus and Dorea were still pure-bloods, and they fashioned their home in accordance with those expectations. Lily, on the other hand, posted numerous family photos, both Muggle and magical, and had a _throw blanket_ , of all things, draped over the sofa.

But, unlike every other time he'd returned to the Manor, there was no Dorea to envelop him in a motherly hug.

"It feels weird being here without Mum and Dad," said Sirius quietly.

James nodded. "I'm used to it, now. They never got to meet the kids, but at least they were at the wedding. And I killed Dolohov so completely I'm sure his ancestors felt the _Avada_."

"Good," Sirius said firmly.

"You're here!" cried Orion, running into the parlor. James raised his eyebrow, and Orion slowed somewhat. "Dottie said she'd make all your favorites for tonight. Lutine is fixing a room for you now." He looked down at his feet. "I hope you don't mind, but it's not your old room."

Sirius raised his eyebrow. "Oh?"

James shook his head. "Orion has your old room, Sirius. Since the day he came home from the hospital. We took down some of the more… adult decorations, but much of it is the same."

Sirius smiled to think of the Muggle bike posters with women in swimwear that had shocked Dorea, thought not enough for her to pull them down.

"That's OK kid. But you'll have to show me my new one."

Orion nodded. "Sure!"

James rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You should probably rest up, Sirius. It's been a long day. I'll send one of the kids to fetch you for dinner, but you've got time for a quick kip." James ruffled Orion's hair. "Show him to his room and then leave him be, Orion. You've got plenty of time to get to know Uncle Padfoot."

* * *

Sirius sat on the bed, staring at the wall. The room was unfamiliar, but he couldn't be too peeved off about that. Orion was his namesake and, more importantly, the second Potter son. Dorea had always said that Sirius was as much her son as James, which is why they made up a family room for him. But now Dorea was gone, James and Lily had two boys of their own, and Sirius was Head of the fucking Black family.

It was too much, he thought, as his emotions finally overtook him. For almost twenty-four hours, except for the time he took the sleeping draught, he'd been on a non-stop rollercoaster. Thrown twenty years in the future, discovered his best mates weren't just grown up, but _professors,_ of all things. They'd bonded and had kids—kids who were Sirius's age, now—and gotten serious and responsible.

And as much as the places he had been felt familiar, nothing was the same. Charles and Dorea were gone, murdered by Antonin Dolohov for speaking out against pure-blood supremacy. His parents were gone too, though that didn't sadden him as much as it probably should have. Sirius's heart broke for his little brother, though. Regulus, the stupid bastard, had gone and gotten himself killed. In school, Reggie had been the epitome of a pure-blood prick and had mocked Sirius at every possible turn—apparently playing the role expected of him in order to ingratiate himself with Voldemort.

What was the last thing Sirius had said to him?

He couldn't remember. He had avoided Reggie at Hogwarts; seeing him be as hateful as Malfoy and his ilk was too much. He remembered his sweet kid brother, hiding out in Sirius's room when their father went on a political diatribe or their mother started screeching about Mudblood filth. Reggie had always had a good heart, and Sirius did his best to protect him from their parents' more hands-on teaching methods. Sirius thought it had all been for naught; he returned home from his first year at Hogwarts to Regulus functioning as a miniature parrot of Walburga's ideology. But Reggie had turned out all right in the end—and then he'd died.

And Sirius couldn't remember the last thing he'd ever said to his brother.

Harry knocked on the door over an hour later. Hearing no answer, he opened the door softly.

Sirius had cried himself to sleep. There were tear tracks down his face and snot on his upper lip and his pillow was still damp.

He'd never survive in Slytherin, thought Harry, regarding the handsome boy in front of him. It's one thing to cry, but at least ward the fucking door until you can get your shit under control. Such a bloody Gryffindor.

Harry walked close to Sirius and shook his shoulder lightly. "Sirius."

Nothing.

"Black."

Nothing.

"Padfoot!"

"Fuck off, Prongs," said Sirius, knocking Harry's hand away. "Bloody hell, can't a bloke sleep?"

"It's Harry, thanks so much. Mum wanted me to come wake you for dinner. If you're late, she'll hex you silly." He turned and left the room without another word, ignoring the choked sob that Sirius tried to suppress when he remembered where—and _when_ —he was.

* * *

Sirius rose the next day to the smell of cinnamon and pine. Christmas, he thought.

And once his reality came crashing back down on him.

Dinner with the Potters the night before had been awful. He was still reeling from the previous day; James and Lily were processing the return of their long-lost friend, still the seventeen-year-old he'd been when his disappeared; and the Potter kids were both fascinated by his presence and indifferent—after all, it was Christmas.

He didn't know what traditions James and Lily had kept, so he treated it like all the other Christmas mornings he'd had a Potter Manor: he kept his flannel pajama bottoms on, threw on a black t-shirt Lutine had laid out for him, and cast a quick hygiene charm on his mouth before heading to the dining room where, he assumed, breakfast would be.

He had expected to see James and Lily—maybe even the kids—but he hadn't expected to see Hermione Granger at the breakfast table.

She looked up and offered a polite smile. "Good morning, Sirius."

"Morning." He sat and looked at the spread. Cinnamon French toast, sausages, and fruit had been laid out on the festive table. He focused on his desperate need for tea first. "What are you doing here?" Pre-tea, the question came out much shorter than he intended.

She pursed her lips. "Not that its any of your business, but I've spent Christmas with the Potters for the past few years."

He raised an eyebrow. "Orphan?"

She shook her head. "My parents are alive. They're… they didn't take too well to me being a witch. I go home for one day to see them, and then I come here for the rest of the break."

"Assholes," muttered Sirius.

"It's not an uncommon experience for Muggle-borns, actually," said Hermione. "Professor Potter told me she went through the same thing with her family. I'm under the impression her sister is quite the cunt."

Sirius almost dropped his teacup at her language—he had _not_ expected that from her—but she just smiled and sipped her tea.

"Happy Christmas!" cried Lily, walking into the room. Sirius frowned at her grey wool dress, and then looked back at Hermione. She was wearing a deep blue sweater and jeans, both cut looser than the girls had worn in his era. She kissed Hermione on the temple before coming around to ruffle Sirius's hair and sit next to him.

"I didn't realize we dressed for Christmas breakfast," he said, a little petulance seeping from his voice.

"Blame Lily for that," said James, walking in and taking a seat next to his wife; James wore denim trousers and a maroon jumper. "I fought _hard_ for pajamas, but she wouldn't have it. Called me a heathen."

"Sorry Evans. I'll go change," said Sirius, rising from the table.

"Potter. And don't worry about it," said Lily, waving the air as if flitting away his concerns. "We're not expecting company until later."

Sirius looked meaningfully at Hermione and then back at Lily.

"Hermione's family," the redhead witch said simply, and then started eating her breakfast. Sirius raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who shrugged. He sat down and stabbed his sausage.

As the remaining Potters joined breakfast, Sirius was unsurprised to see Harry take a seat next to Hermione. The two laughed and joked just as he had with James twenty years before. Hermione had a cup of tea ready for Harry, with two cubes of sugar, before the boy even sat down.

Here was another magical orphan, of sorts, adopted by the Potter clan. Was it a family curse, to pick up one each generation? Or perhaps every Potter child found some unloved, unwanted friend to bring home to the family.

Like a pet.

Sirius shook his head at that thought. He loved James, _had_ loved Charles and Dorea, and was just bitter and angry about… well, everything.

Orion and Dorea were too excited about opening gifts to bother with him at breakfast, so as soon as he finished eating he excused himself to put on real clothes. He was beyond grateful that James had kept his trunk from school—stashed away in storage under a stasis charm 'just in case'—and he pulled out a pair of dark denim trousers and a grey shirt. Both pieces were rather dated, so he used a tailoring charm to make them more like the clothes he'd seen James, Remus, and Harry wearing.

He was making his way to the parlor, where they were gathering for gifts, when he heard the Floo flare. He popped his head in, assuming it was Remus and Fabian arriving, and was shocked to see, instead, Harry in an intimate embrace with a blond boy.

A very, _very_ blond boy.

Sirius narrowed his eyes and marched to the parlor, where Remus and Fabian were already seated with the others. Everyone looked up, eyes taking in Sirius's rage.

"Harry is dating a bloody _Malfoy_?"


	4. The Dinner

Hermione glared at the dark haired, grey-eyed boy sitting on the other side of the room, sulking next to Remus and Fabian.

James and Lily had calmly explained that Draco was neither Lucius or Narcissa and, yes, he was dating Harry, and Sirius damn well better not make a big deal about it in front of the boys because Lily would force him into his animagus form and leave him in a doghouse for the rest of Yule Break.

When the two boys had finally come into the living room, Draco levitating a pile of gifts after them, Harry raised his eyebrow at the palpable tension. Draco paused a moment but relaxed when Hermione bounded out of her seat to wrap her best friend in a giant hug. She'd pulled Draco and Harry to her sofa, far from the petulant boy-child who'd thrown a fit at Draco's presence.

There was no reason for her boys to be upset today. They had enough reason to be anxious about the day as it was.

They'd all had gifts on their beds that morning when they'd woken—Hermione's from her dorm mates and one from Headmistress McGonagall, who always gave gifts to Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl—but the Potters always exchanged gifts as a family.

She and Draco had been brought into that fold long ago.

Draco had been her first friend at Hogwarts. She was a Muggle-born know-it-all who raised her hand too much and answered too many questions; the rest of the Ravenclaw first years were jealous of her, and rather than cultivating her friendship they ostracized her. Draco had been the first Malfoy in three hundred years to be sorted somewhere other than Slytherin, and his father's reputation made him _person non grata_ among the Eagles—among everyone, really.

Unlikeliest of pairs, they found refuge from their exclusion by banding together. They were both well-read, extremely smart, and wildly interested in mining each other's knowledge. Hermione wanted to know everything about wizarding culture, and Draco was fascinated by the Muggle world. Denouncing Muggles and Muggle-borns may no longer be the done thing, but that didn't mean Narcissa Malfoy was taking her pure-blood son on a double-decker tour bus through Muggle London anytime soon.

They'd existed in isolation together until third year, when Hermione received an EE on her Defense mid-year exam. When she went to Professor Lupin in tears, he patiently explained that while her theoretical work was excellent, she was a little behind in her practical work. Then he gave her the name of a year mate who was blowing everyone else out of the water in practicals.

Ever the Slytherin, Harry demanded Hermione help him in Transfiguration, on the sly of course, in exchange for tutoring her in Defense.

"It's embarrassing," he confided in her one evening. "My dad is the bloody professor, and all I've managed so far is an A."

Draco had made their study pair a trio when he'd left them both in the dust with his Potions work.

And while Narcissa Malfoy never once extended an invitation to Harry or Hermione for the holidays—not explicit disapproval, but certainly not hospitable—Lily Potter had welcomed her son's two Ravenclaw friends with open arms. When Lily discovered Hermione's parents were less-than-thrilled with their daughter's magical abilities, she'd all but adopted the girl as her own.

Hermione loved the family she'd built in the magical world. The Potters, Draco—even Remus and Fabian were like uncles to her. She was content. Happy, even.

And then Sirius Black came charging into their lives like a feral hippogriff in an apothecary, and instead of making it all better he was ruining everything.

She knew James and Remus were glad he was back, but his return was drumming up old memories that were long buried and best left in the past. She'd noticed both Professors were quieter this holiday season, and that both Lily and Fabian were hovering around their partners almost protectively. Sirius also had a problem with Harry's house—as if a fucking _Gryffindor_ had any room to talk—and with the fact that he was dating Draco. It seemed like he was mostly put out that Draco was a Malfoy, but she'd heard enough comments about Harry and Draco's sexuality to assume homophobia was off the table. Gryffindors, particularly, seemed to have a rather rigid view of what kind of relationships were acceptable and what kind would lead to whispered name-calling and hissed insults.

And now, to top it off, Sirius was ruining Christmas with his childish sulking.

She was officially pissed that she'd bought the fucker a gift.

He politely nodded at her when he opened it—a book on recent wizarding history—and she forced a smile.

She could be polite—she could suppress her irritation—but the first time that wanker messed with Harry or Draco, she would _end_ him.

* * *

"Quidditch?"

Sirius looked up to see Harry standing over him holding out a broom. "We need a sixth man."

"Hey!" cried Dorea, throwing up her arms in protest.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Player. We need a sixth player. You up for it?"

Sirius looked at the outstretched broomstick. His fingers itched to grab it—to take off in the air with Prongs and Moony just like old times. But he looked past Harry to see Orion, Dorea, and _him_ all waiting.

Fucking Malfoy.

There was something visceral about Sirius's response to that white-blond hair. Maybe it was the way Lucius had sneered at him every possible moment. Sirius knew it was pure-blood politics—asserting his authority over the Black scion would be a coup for Malfoy—but Sirius didn't get a flying hippogriff about all that bullshit. Maybe his response was because of the way Malfoy had fanned the flame of pure-blood bigotry in Cissa; she'd always been something of a snot, but Malfoy encouraged the worst of her traits. He imagined if she'd married someone who wasn't a complete tosser, she'd have ended up more like Andromeda.

It all boiled down to the fact that Lucius Malfoy was a tool, his father was an even bigger tool, and he didn't really think the apple would fall that far from the tree.

But flying. But _Quidditch_. Sirius sucked in his breath. "Yeah, sure mate." He stood and took the proffered broom. "Teams?"

Harry grinned. "Dad, Draco, and Orion against you, Dorea, and me? Dad said you played Beater at school."

Sirius nodded.

"If we can't talk Remus and Fabian into play, you'll have to play a combination of Beater and Keeper. Sound good?"

He'd have an opportunity to send a Bludger at that stupid blond ponce? "Yeah, sounds good."

Sirius frowned when Remus and Fabian bowed out of the game, preferring to sit with Lily and Hermione on the sidelines. He wanted to fly with his old friend, and now he wouldn't be able to focus on hitting Malfoy off his broom as much. Sirius also couldn't help but smirk at how ridiculous the younger witch looked with her giant mane of hair and oversized blue and bronze scarf. She looked up and met his eye, returning his smirk with a frown.

It quickly became apparent that all three Potter children had inherited James's skill on a broom. Harry and Dorea, who had been playing together for years, worked as if they could read each other's minds. Unfortunately, the opposing team's Beater/Keeper, Orion, had been raised on a broom with them both and was just as adept at predicting their movements.

When the game finally ended—Sirius's team having lost, and him not once having knocked Malfoy with the Bludger—the group slowly dispersed. Fabian and Remus left for something called the Burrow, Dorea went off to practice the cosmetic charms in one of her new books, and James and Lily went to lay down for a nap.

Sirius was pretty sure 'lay down for a nap' was code for sex, but he wasn't about to bring that up in front of Prongs's kids.

"You're not too bad on a broom," Harry told Sirius, "but we already knew that from Dad."

"Too bad I won't be able to go out for the team," said Sirius. "I'll miss playing for Gryffindor."

"I actually think you dodged a bullet with that one," said Draco quietly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Sirius. "You have something against Gryffindors?"

Draco shook his head. "Not as a rule, no. But most of the upper years…"

"They're not nice people," said Hermione, curling up to retain as much warmth as possible. "Neville doesn't count, Dorea's great, and Orion and the rest of the first years are wonderful kids, but the rest are basically awful."

Sirius scoffed. "I find that hard to believe. Gryffindor has always been the best house with the best people."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Never mind, you'll fit right in." She grabbed Draco and Harry's hands and hauled them inside.

"They're right, actually."

Sirius turned and raised his eyebrow at Orion, who was holding his broom and shifting awkwardly, like he wanted to say something and also desperately didn't want to say anything.

"I don't like most of the older Gryffindors. They think they're better than everyone else because it was mostly Gryffindors that fought for the Light in the war, and they think that still counts for something even though they were all babies at the time. They're not openly prejudiced against Muggle-borns like Hermione, but most of them only date other pure-bloods. They're _awful_ to Draco, just because of who his father was, and to Harry and Hermione because they are close to him. Neville is the only sixth or seventh year worth anything in the house."

"Draco is a Malfoy," Sirius argued, defending his house and housemates hadn't yet met. "Lucius Malfoy was a dark bastard."

"And Draco isn't," said Orion. The boy sighed, as though he'd had this conversation before and was tired of it. "I can tell you don't like Draco, Sirius. Everyone can. But it's pretty unfair of you—you really haven't even him a chance." The young boy stood up. "Just because people like Draco and Hermione are really smart and clever doesn't mean they're not brave. You'll see."

And with that, Orion left. And Sirius sat alone in the parlor, wondering what kind of world he'd ended up in.

* * *

"Dress for dinner tonight, Sirius. We'll have company."

Sirius had never seen James look so nervous.

* * *

When Draco Malfoy escorted Narcissa Malfoy into the dining room, trailed by Lily Potter wearing the fakest smile Sirius had ever seen, it was everything he could do not to laugh.

If he knew Cissa, and he did, this was the last group of people—save her son—with whom she wanted to spend the evening.

Dinner was a quiet affair, obviously tense, and it became apparent that Cissa only knew the most shallow of information about the Potters. She only raised an eyebrow when James 're-introduced' her cousin, but Sirius knew Cissa well enough to see the fire in her eyes at his presence. The Dowager Malfoy was _not_ pleased that Sirius was back.

After a quiet dessert, Lily dismissed Dorea and Orion to their rooms. The children grumbled but left quickly.

Once the adults had settled in, Draco looked across the table. "Mother, I confess that I've asked you to join me here because I have something of an announcement to make."

Narcissa pursed her lips and placed her hands in her lap. "I assumed as much. It's not every day that I'm asked to visit with the Professors Potter."

Sirius noted that Cissa called the Potters by their professional, not political, name. To not refer to James and Lily as Lord and Lady Potter in a non-academic setting was a mild slight, but a slight nonetheless.

Draco tensed his shoulders and looked his mother straight in the eye. "Earlier this fall, I asked Harry to bond with me. He's agreed." The blond glanced at Harry and smiled sweetly; Harry's hand drifted onto Draco's and squeezed.

There was a pause—a significant pause—before Narcissa responded. "Absolutely not." She did not raise her voice—that would be uncouth—but her disapproval was evident in her tone.

No one at the table, including Sirius, was surprised at Narcissa's response. Sirius has been raised in a household just like his cousin, where familial duty was the law of the land. One might have a dalliance or two at school—Sirius knew Narcissa herself had been quite close to Camellia Greengrass—but dalliances were always set aside for a proper marriage to a good family. For the eldest boy, as with Draco, this also meant securing an heir as quickly as possible. Sirius was glad Remus had found happiness with Fabian Prewett, but that the last of the Prewetts would willingly forgo fathering an heir was… well, it wasn't done. Even Sirius was slightly shocked by Fabian's decision, though he was all for the man's decision to give a proverbial double-finger salute to pure-blood expectations.

Lily smiled at Narcissa. "Mrs. Malfoy—Narcissa—our boys love each other very much." Sirius smiled at Lily's returned slight: see a Professor Potter, raise her a Mrs. Malfoy. Someone had learned to play the social games in the twenty years he'd been gone. "I know this isn't how things are traditionally done in your circles, but we're thrilled that the boys have found happiness together. We had hoped to take the rest of the holiday to get to know you better, as you'll be family soon."

Narcissa turned to regard Lily Potter with not a little disdain. "Forgive me, _Professor_ Potter, but I disagree. As Regent to the House of Malfoy, I simply cannot allow Draco to bond with Harry. He has a duty to his family to provide an heir, and your son lacks the necessary equipment to bestow that honor on our House."

"Mother," Draco cut in before she could say anything more. "You have not been Regent since this summer."

Damn, Narcissa is good, thought Sirius. She hadn't let the surprise at his statement show on his face, but Sirius saw he shoulders tense at her son's announcement.

"You took up the family ring without my knowledge?" He waved a nonverbal _Finite_ over his hand, and the Malfoy ring appeared. "How… Slytherin of you, Draco. I assume you requested that Gringotts continue treating me as Regent until we could have this little tête-à-tête?" He did not nod, but simply returned her gaze in affirmation. The blonde woman took a sip of her water. "And the fact that the Malfoy charter requires a blood heir?"

"We have procured a surrogate."

Sirius's eyes went wide as saucers when Hermione smiled, sitting perfectly straight in her modest grey dress and pearls. It was a demure smile—one which would not be out of place on any pure-blood princess—but Sirius could see the sneer in her eyes.

"No," said Narcissa, looking at the curly-haired witch in open disgust. "No grandchild of mine will be…" She stopped and waved her hand dismissively at Hermione. The implication was obvious to everyone at the table: there would be no half-blood Malfoys.

"It's done, Mother," said Draco. "The contracts are signed and on file with Gringotts. The only person who can break them is me, Harry, or Hermione, and I can tell you right now that will not be happening. This dinner is a courtesy, in the hopes that you would be willing to set aside your outdated social mores for the happiness of your only child and future grandchildren."

The table was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Finally, and abruptly, Narcissa stood.

"Draco, I could live with you being in Ravenclaw. I could stomach a… friendship… with Ms. Granger. I could ignore your dalliance with Mr. Potter, all in the hopes that one day you would set aside your childish endeavors and become the man your father wanted you to be. I can see my hopes were in vain."

"Of course they were, Mother," said Draco, not showing any shame or remorse. "I have no desire to emulate my father in any way. You may have had love for the man, but I have none. He was a violent zealot, and his abhorrent and outdated ideology would have destroyed magical Britain. I cannot imagine a world in which I cared one iota what that man thought of me."

Narcissa narrowed her blue-grey eyes. "Draco, you will do for your family and House what you must. We're leaving."

Draco sat defiantly. Harry, mouth drawn in a straight line, put his arm around his fiancé and trailed his fingertips along Draco's shoulder.

Narcissa looked hard at the couple. "You _will_ do what is expected of you, Draco Malfoy. Mark my words."

She turned and walked out without thanking, or even acknowledging, her hosts. That was not a _mild_ slight by any stretch.

"Well, that went about as well as could be expected," said Harry with a wry smile. He leaned over to Draco and whispered in his ear. The blond relaxed somewhat and turned to gaze sweetly into his fiancé's eyes.

James let out a heavy sigh. "Who wants a drink?"

Everyone raised their hands.

* * *

"Why?" Sirius asked, when he found Hermione in the Potter library the next day.

She sighed, but did not look up from her book. "Why what?"

"Why would you agree to be Draco's surrogate."

She paused, and pushed an errant lock of hair behind her ear. "That's really none of your business."

Sirius shrugged. "Probably not. I still want to know." He sat down next to her and smiled. "And I'm known for getting my way eventually."

Hermione closed her book and looked up at the boy—man, really. She didn't say anything—she just watched Sirius. Studied him, like she would study her notes. She saw his eyebrows furrow when she didn't answer right away. She saw him lean back against the sofa, giving an appearance of nonchalance, but the rest of his body language indicated he was totally focused on her.

He was very pretty, Hermione admitted. Handsome and aristocratic but also a little boyish. Dark hair to his shoulders, begging for someone to run their fingers through it, and grey eyes that changed color in the light, vacillating between silver and charcoal.

"Draco is my best friend," she said, quietly. "I would do anything for him. And Harry—Harry has become like a brother to me. Between the Malfoy charter and Narcissa, their bonding was always going to be problematic. This just takes one of their big concerns off the table. Plus, I'll make an awesome godmother."

"Is this why you're 'decidedly single'?" asked Sirius playfully, though there was a firmness to his tone.

She shrugged. "Not really. It's not common knowledge that I've agreed to be their surrogate, so I'd appreciate it if you'd keep it to yourself. But surrogacy for my best friends is the best of all worlds: I get to have children and be part of their life while still getting a full night's sleep and focusing on my career."

"Children? You mean, more than one?"

Hermione nodded. "I'll be a surrogate for Draco _and_ Harry. Even if Harry did pass on Head of House to his little brother, Orion won't be of age to inherit for another six years. Plus, Harry _wants_ a kid of his own. They want to blood adopt each other's children too, so each kid will really have three parents, in blood and magic. It made sense that if I was Draco's surrogate, I would also be Harry's."

Sirius processed all of this while Hermione went back to her reading.

"Have you dated at all?"

Hermione closed her eyes. All she wanted to do was read, and this obnoxious boy would not go away.

She decided it was better to sate his curiosity than become some mystery for him to figure out. Maybe he'd go away. "I had a boyfriend for a bit fifth year. I just… there wasn't anything there." She looked up at him and smiled halfheartedly. "Theo was a nice guy and pleasant to talk to, but there wasn't any fire. Honestly, I haven't found anyone who interests me enough to get invested, and now anyone who is interested will have to be OK with my status as the Malfoy and Potter surrogate."

"You won't find a lot of guys like that in the wizarding world," said Sirius softly. "Bloodlines mean a lot."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Then I'm a badass godmother for the rest of my life. Believe me, you're raising issues that I've discussed _ad nauseam_ with Harry and Draco. They wouldn't try to pull wool over my eyes, especially about this. I signed the contract with my eyes wide open." By the time she ended her response, her voice was short and clipped. He'd clearly struck a nerve, despite her having gone over these issues ' _ad nauseam_.' She stood, slipping the book she'd been reading under her arm. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go to my room so I can read in peace. After all, I can't imagine you'd want to spend time with us degenerates and our _tainted_ bloodlines." She marched off before he could respond.

Sirius frowned. All he'd been doing was looking out for her—surrogacy in the wizarding world was rare, for good reason. He didn't think James would allow her to be taken advantage of, but Harry was a Slytherin and Draco was a Malfoy and Sirius was sure no good could come of _anything_ to do with Slytherins and Malfoys.

* * *

Grimmauld place may have been a festering hole of Black Magic—both the familial kind and the dark-as-fuck kind—but it was his ancestral home and, as Head of the Black family, he had an obligation to keep it inhabitable.

He'd paid the Horde a lot of gold and returned a number of goblin-made artifacts to have them strip the place to studs, magically speaking. The goblins re-erected standard security wards, and then Sirius hauled out the family grimoire and—surprise of surprises—found a blood ward that wouldn't maim a half-blood upon entry.

Then he'd invited Andromeda Tonks to tea.

"Cousin," she said, her face impassive. "You're looking well."

Sirius snorted. "I'm a bloody teenager, Andi. I know it's weird." He leaned forward. "I'd like to reinstate you into the family."

She nodded. "I'd thought as much, when I received your owl. You don't have to, you know. I'm quite happy as a Tonks."

He smiled. Andromeda had always been the best of the sisters—all of the family's pure-blood princess breeding, none of their hateful ideology. She was a Slytherin as they came, but Sirius tried not to hold that against her. "Don't leave me alone with that vicious harpy that used to be your sister. She'd as soon assassinate me as look at me, now that I've cost her darling Draco the Black inheritance."

Andromeda frowned. "Cissa always was quite devious, but I can't imagine Draco participating in one of her schemes." She took a sip of tea, pinky raised just enough to show she knew what to do but not enough to make a show of it. Sirius could see how some people thought class was innate, though he knew Druella had practically beat such nuances into her girls as children. "He sought me out, you know."

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"After he started dating the Potter boy. Sent me an owl saying he owed it to himself to get to know the side of his family that didn't blindly follow a genocidal megalomaniac. He's a good boy. A good man."

Inwardly, Sirius rolled his eyes. If one more person sang the praises of Draco bloody Malfoy he was going to vomit. Did the guy rescue Crup puppies and mentor orphaned squibs too?

"I have the paperwork to make you a Black again. Just say the word, and I'll send it to Gringotts. I'll even hire a Master of Charms to fix the damn tapestry."

She smirked at the wizard. "Won't they have to do that anyway?"

Sirius grinned. "Yeah. Too bad ol' Orion never formally filed the disinheritance paperwork. They knew I'd hand this bullshit off to Reggie if I could."

Andromeda's smile faltered. "You know he died a hero, in the end?"

Sirius nodded. "To think, he was the real Gryffindor in the end. Maybe that's what killed Walburga."

"Actually, I think the Harpies carried her off; they missed their queen."

Sirius barked a laugh. "That's the truth of it. She left a portrait, you know, as fucking awful and shrill as she ever was. I had the goblins burn it with fiendfyre."

Andromeda snorted into her tea.

"What do you say, Andi? Let me bring you home."

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Ted and I don't need the money, but a family trust would go a long way for Nymphadora. She's an Auror, and public service doesn't pay particularly well."

"Does she need a dowry?" asked Sirius, putting on his Head of House hat and shifting to sit a little straighter.

Andromeda pursed her lips to keep from laughing. "Not likely. She's a devoted follower of Sappho. And, if I'm honest, Dionysus."

"And a metamorphmagus? She sounds like my new best friend."

Andromeda rolled her eyes. "I can't imagine her taking a seventeen year old to the social functions she attends." Sirius opened up to retort, but Andromeda held up her hand. "Please, cousin. I've tried not to think too hard about my daughter's romantic life. She's a good girl, but my lessons on ladylike behavior and modesty do not seem to have taken root."

Sirius leaned back. "Excellent. When can I catch up with ol' Nymphie?"

* * *

"I'll introduce you to the common room before dinner, so no one will question why you're at the Gryffindor table," said James. "And I'll have the seventh year prefect get you settled. Neville Longbottom—Frank's boy—is a good lad. You can trust him."

Sirius scoffed. "Of course I can. He's a Gryffindor."

James frowned. "Look Sirius, things have changed. I'm not saying Gryffindor is bad, but there's a few people in the house—it's very different from when we were in school."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You've gotten old, mate. Of course it's different. You can't go around pranking everyone as a professor, now can you."

"And I can't get you out of any trouble you get into. You know that, right? Moony and me—we have to be impartial."

"Yeah, no bias. I get it. How many Gryffindors did Minnie hire after the war, again?"

James frowned. "That's… you're missing the point here Sirius. Look, you've got a semester to finish your NEWTs. Try to figure out what you think you want to do, and please don't fuck around _too_ much. Giving you detention will be too weird."

"I bet Lily doesn't have a problem with it," said Sirius, grinning at his friend.

* * *

 _A/N: I have a few more chapters pre-written, which I'll post over the coming week, but after that I'll be updating sporadically. I envision about 12-15 chapters total for this story._


	5. The Return to Hogwarts

_A/N: One more pre-written chapter after this, and then updates will be as inspiration hits. Thanks for reading! xx_

* * *

The train ride back to Hogwarts wasn't something Sirius looked forward to. He'd spent enough time with Harry, Hermione, and Draco over Yule, and he wasn't looking forward to any more—especially without James, Lily, and Remus to buffer.

They were immediately joined by Neville Longbottom and a fey blond girl who introduced herself as Luna Lovegood. When she saw Sirius, she smiled.

"Oh, it's you."

His eyes narrowed. "Have we met?"

She shook her head. "Not before now, no. But you are here, and you are you. Our meeting before has no bearing on now." She smiled at Hermione and sat down next to the girl.

The final addition to their compartment, a few minutes later, was a brusque, beautiful, dark-haired witch who huffed when she sat next to Luna.

"Circe's bloody bedsheet, I will be so glad to never make this trip again. We're all staying over for Easter, right?"

Everyone nodded, and Luna turned to the girl and smiled brightly. The dark haired witch grinned back, much more lasciviously, and pulled the blonde into a scandalously intense kiss.

"Missed you, poppet," she whispered.

"I know," said the blonde, still smiling brightly. Her eyes darted around the compartment before landing back on the other girl. "Did you see the wrackspurt infestation?"

Hermione's eyebrow quirked from Luna's other side. "Really? In here?"

"What the fuck is a wrackspurt?" asked Sirius.

"I think the more important question is who the fuck are you?" the dark haired witch snapped.

He smirked at the girl and turned on the charm. "Sirius Black, Head of the House of Black. At your service, m'lady." He bowed his head slightly, and Harry stifled a laugh. Hermione rolled her eyes.

The witch looked at him with disdain. "Pansy Parkinson." She looked back at Luna. "Is he giving you trouble, poppet?"

Luna leaned forward and whispered in Pansy's ear.

Pansy grinned and kissed the blonde's forehead. "If you say so," she whispered. She turned back to Sirius. "Wrackspurts are an infestation of creatures that don't exist. They usually denote tension, distraction, or confusion. Not everyone is fluent in Luna-speak." She turned back to her girlfriend, and the rest of the compartment became irrelevant to the reunited couple.

"Luna has a touch of the Sight," muttered Neville. "She's not a Seer-proper, but she is more intuitive than most people. If she mentions imaginary creatures, she's usually talking about something else."

"She's got a touch of something, all right," whispered Sirius, peering at the smiling blonde.

Hermione overheard, glared, and sent him stinging hexes for the remainder of the trip.

He tried to ignore how attractive her stupid hair was when it sparked in anger.

* * *

After James introduced Sirius to Gryffindor—though Dorea had already spread word on the train, making her father's speech wholly unnecessary—Neville took him to the seventh year dorm.

"The elves brought up another bed for you." He gestured to the bed second from the door. "I'm there"—he pointed to the bed closest to the door—"and there's Michael Corner, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and Ron Weasley."

Sirius waved to the boys, who were unpacking from the trip. Sirius levitated his trunk to the end of the bed Neville had pointed to and started to unpack.

"The last Marauder, eh?" Ron sauntered over to Sirius, a good-natured grin on his face. The tall, red-head boy was lanky but athletic—a Keeper's build if Sirius had ever seen one. "Plan on sending out the year with a bang? Don't know much that will top time travel. Best prank ever!"

Sirius stared at the boy. Time travel—a prank? "Yeah, missing the last twenty years has worked out great for me. My friends are old, my brother's dead, and I just got saddled with a shit ton of responsibility I don't want."

"But you're loaded now, right? Head of the House of Black and all? Cor, I bet witches will be lining up for you mate. Not mine, of course." He winked at Sirius.

Sirius's sarcasm had gone over this boy's head. It was clear Ron Weasley wasn't the brightest Galleon in the vault, but in the grand scheme of things he could be much worse. Moreover, Sirius wasn't in a position to be ostracizing his housemates.

Sirius offered a small smile back. "Yeah? Who's your girl, and what single witches should I be looking out for?"

"Lavender Brown's my girlfriend. She's a Gryffindor seventh year, like us. She's beautiful, blonde and"—Ron used his hands to convey extreme curves. Sirius's laughter at the boy's gesture was echoed by Dean, Michael, and Seamus. "We've been together since last year. The other girls in Gryffindor are Parvati Patil, Fay Dunbar, and Mandy Brocklehurst. Any one of them would be a great girlfriend!"

Sirius nodded. "And outside of Gryffindor?"

Seamus spoke up next. "I'm dating Megan Jones. She's a Hufflepuff. But Hannah Abbott is single. She's really pretty and a sweetheart to boot."

"Or Susan Bones," said Michael.

Neville cleared his throat. "Really, Michael?"

The boy smiled, though his smile looked a bit off to Sirius. "Sorry, Neville. I forgot."

Sirius turned to the tall boy and raised an eyebrow.

"Susan and I dated last semester. We spent Yule together, and are now engaged"—at this he shot Michael a meaningful look—"so she is very much off the dating market."

Sirius nodded. "Congrats, mate. What's she like?"

Neville smiled. "Beautiful. Kind. Almost her entire family was killed in the war—she lives with Minister Bones, her aunt—but she still manages to have this incredible heart. She's the prefect in her year, and really good with younger students." Neville blushed, but Sirius understood. Frank Longbottom's kid would be the Scion of the House of Longbottom, and that meant he needed heirs for his house. A witch who was good with kids would always be appealing to a titled wizard.

"You could date a younger student," said Dean. "I'm dating Ron's sister, Ginny. She's a sixth year."

Ron glowered at the boy, which Dean did not catch, though Sirius did. "Yeah, I guess," said Ron. "Vicky Frobisher is pretty, and she's a damn fine Chaser. Or Romilda Vane. She's not the prettiest of the bunch, but she'll let you get a leg over faster than any of the rest.

"You won't want to date any Ravenclaws or Slytherins," he continued, heading back toward his bed. "The Ravenclaw girls are too concerned with studying, and the Slytherins are all dark slags." Ron flopped down and stared at the ceiling. "No, you'll probably want to stick with Gryffindors. They're the best of the lot, you know."

Neville muttered "Asshole" under his breath as he continued unpacking his trunk.

"I actually met a few Ravenclaws and Slytherins on the train," said Sirius casually. "They seemed OK."

Everyone but Neville stared at the boy like he was a thestral that had appeared out of nowhere.

"Who?" ask Michael, flabbergasted.

Ron recovered and scoffed. "Probably the Potter crew, since he stayed with the Potters over Yule." He sat up and stared hard at the boy. "You'll want to watch that, Sirius. Harry may be a Potter, but he's still a snake. Plus his _boyfriend"—_ he practically spit the word—"is a Malfoy and they're as dark as they come."

"Got something against two guys dating, mate?" asked Sirius nonchalantly.

"It's an abomination," said Ron. "How are they supposed to carry on their line? It's not right, and I can't believe the Professors don't put a stop to it."

"What about witches?" asked Neville, who cast a meaningful look at Sirius. The kind of look that said 'pay attention.'

"Oh, well, that's all right as long as they eventually get married," said Ron. He laughed and high-fived Seamus. "I've watched Lav make out with Parvati a whole bunch of times. As long as she comes back to me in the end, who am I to put a stop to it?"

Sirius turned to face Neville and rolled his eyes. Ron Weasley seemed like an OK bloke, but his draconian views on sexuality were at odds with Sirius's pansexual hedonism. In Sirius's mind, beauty was beauty and sex was sex, and it didn't matter the parts attached to the person as long as all parties were into it.

An ex-girlfriend had called him an equal opportunity man-slag, and Prongs and Moony had laughed for days.

But Sirius understood the drive to provide heirs for one's house. He never thought he'd be in that position, but now here he was, all Head of House and shit. He sighed out loud, wishing Regulus was still around to take this burden off him. Regulus would have been a _great_ Head of House, especially since he was on the side of the Light after all.

That night, Sirius laid in bed trying to ignore Seamus's snoring and thinking on the past few weeks. He thought about all the pressure on him, and the fact that his friends were not only old but also seemed to have their shit together. He thought about how completely and utterly he did _not_ have his shit together.

He wondered if he'd ever be happy again.

* * *

"Human Transfiguration is a major part of the NEWT," explained Hermione to the small study group, sitting at a table in an empty classroom. "If you can master your animagus transformation for the test, that's the best, but we can also practice transfiguring parts of our bodies in case that doesn't pan out in time."

Sirius leaned back and smiled. He had this on lock-down; becoming an animagus at fifteen was about as skilled at Transfiguration as one could get. Harry, Draco, and Neville, were also part of their NEWT Transfiguration study group; he hadn't understood why Luna Lovegood, who was a Sixth Year, was there though.

"I won't have a study group next year," she explained when she sat down and Sirius looked at her oddly, "so I'm preparing this year."

"Won't your class organize one?" he asked, confused.

"Of course they will," she said. She did not explain why she wouldn't be part of that group, and Hermione shot him a look that shut down further questioning.

"Now, how far is everyone on their animagi training?" Hermione asked.

"Wait, you're _all_ training to become animagi?" asked Sirius.

Hermione blinked at him. "Of course. It's the best way to achieve an O on our NEWT. We know you've already done it; Professor Potter said you would be an excellent resource for our study groups. That's why I asked you to join us."

Sirius didn't acknowledge the slight punch to his gut. He hated to admit it, but the people at the table were the closest things he had to school friends. Neville, especially, was proving to be a lot like Remus seventh year: quiet and smart, but with a wicked sense of humor. Plus, he at least was a Gryffindor.

Sirius knew he was good at Transfiguration, but he thought maybe he'd been invited because… well, because they liked him.

He's spent time with Prongs and Moony—as much as he could—but they were busy with teaching and grading and staff meetings and patrolling and… well, they were busy. And Sirius had to admit, it was different hanging out with them now that he couldn't talk about the hot birds in Charms or the pranks he wanted to pull. Mostly, now, they caught him up on the past and Quidditch.

"So, training?" repeated Hermione.

Neville cleared his throat. "I've met my form. I've started on partial transformations, but I haven't achieved a full one yet. Professor Potter said he or McGonagall could supervise me when I first attempt."

"That's great Neville!" said Harry. "I've done the meditations, but I haven't met my form. I think I'm going to be some kind of reptile though."

Sirius scoffed. Fucking Slytherins.

"Me too," said Draco, shooting a glare to Sirius. "I can't explain it, but definitely reptilian."

Hermione looked at Luna. "Oh, I'll be starting with the mandrake over the summer. I'm just here to learn from your experiences."

Hermione smiled indulgently at the witch. There was evident affection between the two, and Sirius wondered if Hermione hadn't found the right wizard because she was more inclined toward witches, although it was pretty apparent Luna girl was dating Pansy. The amount of times he'd found the two wrapped around one another in the hallways was absurd. It was worse than he had been seventh year, and _that_ was saying something.

"What about you, Hermione?" asked Neville. "You were pretty close to a full transformation before the holidays."

Hermione grinned wickedly, and all of a sudden there was a brown Kneazle with the bushiest tail Sirius had ever seen sitting on their table. She looked at them imperiously and then licked her paw.

"Holy shit!" cried Harry. "That's awesome, Hermione!"

The Kneazle stalked around the table, and they all rubbed her back while she arched and purred. Finally, she stopped in front of Sirius and cocked her head.

He recognized a 'show me what you got' gesture when he saw one. He laughed, changed into Padfoot, and wagged his tail at her. She hopped down, and he crouched low, in a playful position. He narrowed his eyes and let out an irritated growl when she placed a paw on his face—that was a dominant gesture, and he was at least five times as big as she was. The Kneazle huffed and patted her paw on his head again, then turned and headed back to the desk where she transformed back to Hermione.

Sirius was back in his own seat moments later. "What's her name?" he asked.

"Name?" questioned Hermione.

He nodded. "I'm Padfoot, James—Professor Potter—is Prongs, and…" He stopped himself before he could mention Peter. "And you should have a name," he finished lamely.

Hermione frowned. "Like what?"

"Bast?" offered Draco.

"Too on-the-nose. How about Bushy?" asked Harry, grinning. "That was quite the tail you had."

Hermione frowned. "Because when someone hears you call me Bushy, my _tail_ is the first thing they'll think of."

"Puss," said Neville, grinning. Harry and Draco snickered good-naturedly.

"No!" Hermione practically shouted, and a faint blush crept up on her face. "C'mon guys, be"—she glanced at Sirius, who was waiting for her to finish her sentence, and choked down word on the tip of her tongue—"Can you please find something less suggestive?"

"Freyja."

Everyone looked at Luna, who shrugged. "Her chariot was drawn by cats."

"OK…" said Sirius.

"And she is the goddess of sex and fertility, which is appropriate for Hermione."

Hermione's faint blush became more pronounced and spread to her ears. Neville's eyes went wide, and the other boys just stared at Luna openmouthed.

"If that's too on-the-nose as well, the modern translation of Freyja is Lady. That would also be appropriate."

"Lady," said Draco, rolling the word around in his mouth and glancing at Hermione. "I like it."

"Lady," agreed Neville.

Sirius looked long at Hermione. "Well, Lady, how shall we help your merry band of swains attain their own transformations."

Sirius was gratified with the uptight girl blushed even brighter.

* * *

"You know, now that you've got us you really don't need to hang out with Potter and his crew anymore," said Ron one morning over breakfast. It had been a few weeks, and so far Sirius had gotten on well with his housemates. Ron Weasley seemed to be the ring-leader of the seventh years, excluding Neville who hung out with the Potter crew. The girls seemed nice enough, and they'd all made overtures to Sirius about 'getting to know him better'—even Lavender Brown, though Sirius wasn't stupid enough to tell Ron that.

Honestly, Lavender's overt come-ons—only days after term had started—had put him off so much that he decided to forgo dating for the time being. With the rate his luck was going, he'd end up in a broom closet with some girl betrothed to the Head of the DMLE's kid or who was dating _both_ Slytherin beaters or something. He figured he'd get the lay of the land before dipping his toes into the dating scene.

Still, as nice as the Gryffindor girls were, he had no desire to limit his social circle _that_ much, and he didn't appreciate Ron's heavy-handed attempt to regulate his social life.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at the redhead. "They're helping me prepare for NEWTs. And you lot haven't invited me to any study groups."

He glanced at Neville, who simply rolled his eyes and kept eating. He'd discovered Neville simply didn't try to correct Ron; it was much easier for the Longbottom heir to pretend the other wizard didn't exist. He'd told Sirius that Ron was too stubborn to think for himself, so once he had an idea in his brain that became the way things were and nothing, not proof or logic or common sense, would change things.

Ron shrugged and shoved another bite of sausage in his mouth. "I don't need to study. My Uncle Fabian is a Senior Auror; he'll get me into the Academy for sure."

Sirius furrowed his brow. "Fabian? Fabian Prewett? Moony's mate?"

Ron nodded, his mouth full.

"I didn't realize Fabian was your uncle," said Sirius, openly glaring. "I thought you weren't particularly cool with the whole dude-marrying-a-dude thing?"

Ron swallowed. "Fabian named my brother Charlie as the Prewett heir, so the line won't die out. It's good for my family—I mean, it's still gross but he's done his duty and all, and us Weasleys will be better off for it. And Fabian and Remus don't come around much; Mum isn't much of a Remus fan. You know, _werewolf_." Ron whispered as if Remus's condition was some big secret, though the man had been advocating for werewolf rights since the end of the war. Sirius bristled at the not-so-subtle condemnation of his friend, but Ron continued, oblivious to the offense. "And on top of the Prewett House, there's Ginny. So we'll be connected to three titled houses and Fabian's disgrace won't bring us down too bad."

"What do you mean?" asked Sirius, looking down the table where Dean was smiling at a seemingly disinterested redhead girl. He was boiling with anger at the idea that Remus was a disgrace of any sort, but hexing a housemate was bad form. Plus, there were too many witnesses around. Witnesses and professors, he thought, glancing at his old friend chatting with James and Lily at the Head Table, unaware that his asshole of a nephew was disparaging him over sausages and Yorkshire pudding.

Ron glanced at his sister and then shrugged. "Ginny knows she has to marry well. Dean's a nice guy, but he's not exactly a catch. Not much of a family, you know."

Internally, Sirius frowned. The implication, of course, that because Dean was Muggle-born he wouldn't have a title to bring to a marriage—there was no House of Thomas.

"Hey, maybe she'll date you!" said Ron brightly. "You'd be real lucky—she's the first girl born to the Weasleys in a long time, which Mum says makes her special. And Mum had seven kids, so, you know."

"Know what?" asked Sirius, feigning ignorance. He knew exactly where this was going, but he wanted to see if Ron would be uncouth enough to say it. Sirius gave it a fifty-fifty, seeing as he'd been utterly clueless to how offensive he'd been to this point.

"She'd be able to revitalize your House, or whatever," said Ron, waving his fork with a large piece of sausage attached. "With babies."

And there it was. The not-so-passé idea that pure-blood witches were nothing but broodmares.

"Don't you think you should wait until she's single to start finding her a husband?" asked Sirius. He exchanged glances with Neville.

Ron shrugged indifferently and shoved another bit of sausage in his mouth.

* * *

"Hey, Lady," said Sirius, sitting down next to Hermione in the library. "Got a second?"

"Sure." Hermione didn't look up from her book. She was in her uniform, but her tie was loose and the sleeves of her jumper were pushed up to her elbows. She'd tossed her curls into a half-hearted bun, and errant dark curls shot out every which way.

Sirius had to remind himself that this was the girl who'd walked out on him in Potter library and who'd hexed him the whole train ride to Hogsmeade. He also had to remind himself that he had a self-imposed moratorium on dating, and that he wasn't even sure this girl was totally into guys.

She was just so damn cute, all studious and adorable and begging to be snogged senseless.

Focus, he thought. Focus.

"I was thinking about taking a History of Magic NEWT," he said, after suppressing the urge to seduce the girl in front of him, "but I dropped the class after OWLs. Neville said you're taking the NEWT, and I thought you might have time to work with me. I'm a quick study, and teaching me will be good revision for you."

She looked up. "You're decided to make up a year and a half of curriculum now? There are only four months until the NEWT exam!" Her voice was hushed but reproving.

"Well, when I dropped the class, I wasn't expected to take a seat on the Wizengamot," Sirius muttered. "I always thought James and I would go into the Auror program together, but that obviously didn't happen. And now… I'm not sure I want to be an Auror without him."

"So you want to go into politics?" asked Hermione.

"Not really, but it's as good as anything else, right?" Sirius put his elbows on the table and dropped his head in his hands. "It's like I thought my life was going one place, and now everything is different but I have to figure it all out right now. Like there's this invisible pressure bearing down on me, and I'm going to be squashed flat at any moment."

He was shocked when Hermione's hand touched his arm. He looked over at her to see her watching him with bright brown eyes. "You don't, you know."

He simply stared back at her and tried not to think about how pink her lips were, or the enchanting way her freckles dotted her cheeks. He was definitely not thinking about how this girl—this obnoxious, self-righteous woman—was really quite beautiful.

He tried so hard not to think about those things that he forgot what they were talking about. "What?"

"You don't have to have it all figured out now. I don't."

Sirius scoffed. "Of course you do. What is it that Moony calls you? Brightest witch of the age?"

She sat for a moment, looking thoughtful. "There's a Muggle book called _The Bell Jar_ , and in it the protagonist sees a tree with each branch signifying a possible future for her: in one she's an editor, in another a writer, in another a translator. She thinks the moment she chooses one future, that choice will immediately preclude the rest from ever happening—all the other branches will disappear. So she never picks—she becomes paralyzed by that decision." Hermione gulped. "I feel a lot like that right now. The wizarding world is so incredible—what happens if I choose one path and then find out I want to do something else?"

"Then you do something else. Merlin's saggy ballsack, Hermione, you have so many people who would—hell, Malfoy could probably _buy_ you whatever job you wanted."

She frowned and pursed her lips. "That is not why I'm friends with Draco."

Sirius laughed. "I know. Most people wouldn't go near him for all the Galleons in the world."

Hermione huffed. "Most people are idiots."

"Now _that_ is something we can agree on."

An awkward silence fell over them. Hermione pushed at the sleeves of her jumper, and Sirius tapped his foot. The avoided looking at each other. Hermione was convincing herself that the Sirius might be attractive and well-meaning, but he was still a git; Sirius was trying very desperately to _not_ look at the enticing way she bit the side of her lip in concentration.

"I'll do it," said Hermione after few moments.

"Hm?" asked Sirius. He had been looking at her ink-stained fingertips laying lightly on his arm and wondering if the stains would transfer to him if she held him tighter—if she were clutching his shoulders while he nibbled at her pulse point, for instance.

He shook his head. Fucking get it together, Padfoot.

"I'll tutor you in History of Magic," she said. "I'll make a study schedule for you to get caught up on the curriculum. Right now I'm studying for that NEWT after Potions study group on Thursdays. Will that work for you?"

"Oh. Yeah, that works. That's great!" said Sirius, standing. "This is great. Just great."

She nodded. "We'll get started tomorrow. And Sirius?" She smiled up at him. "You have people too. The Potters, Professor Lupin, Neville—I know you're not the biggest fan of me, Harry, or Draco, but we'll help if we can. Pansy and Luna too." She grinned. "Luna's taken a shine to you, you know."

He was shocked that she knew of his ambivalence toward the three—though he was admittedly every bit a Gryffindor and not great at hiding his feelings or emotions—but by the time he'd opened his mouth to protest she'd already gathered her books and made for the library's exit.

* * *

Sirius was looking over the notes and study schedule Hermione had given him for History of Magic when he noticed someone sit at his table in the common room. He looked up and found Ginny Weasley smiling at him.

"Hi Sirius." She said sweetly. "What are you working on?"

He smiled back. "History of Magic. I'm catching up on about two years of work right now, and the recent stuff is doubly hard for obvious reasons."

"Oh, I love History of Magic! Maybe I can help you study."

He nodded. "Sure. Hermione Granger is already helping me on Thursdays, but it wouldn't hurt to have a study buddy in Gryffindor."

Ginny frowned. "You want to be careful around her, Sirius. There's something off about her."

Sirius furrowed his brow, and his stomach twisted a bit. "What do you mean?"

Ginny leaned in and lowered her voice, but anyone near them would be able to hear her. "She spends all her time with Dark wizards, like Draco Malfoy. She's so boring not even the Ravenclaws will hang out with her. And she's so plain and annoying that the only two boys who spend time with her started dating each other." The revulsion in her voice was evident. "I mean, _obviously_ there's something wrong with her."

Sirius frowned. "I don't know about all that. She's been nice enough to me, and I'm grateful for her help."

Ginny smiled again and batted her eyelashes at him. "Of course. As a study partner she's fine but"—Ginny laid his hand over his where it had been resting on his study schedule—"she's not particularly useful beyond that, is she?"

Sirius looked at her hand, which was now lightly stroking his. "I don't think Dean would appreciate this, Ginny."

She giggled. "Oh, Dean and I aren't together anymore. He was fun, but I'm looking for something more… serious." She winked.

Sirius groaned inside. Only he was allowed to use puns for his name. And really, he didn't use them—he just never missed an opportunity when other people opened that door. Of course, if it was intentional it simply wasn't as fun.

He moved his hand and gathered his papers. "Thanks for the offer, Ginny. I'll let you know if I need any help." He stood and headed for the boys' dorms.

"Anytime," she called sweetly after him. "Really, I'm glad to help any way I can. Any way at all."

* * *

"You know she tried to seduce Harry," said Neville later that night. The rest of their dorm mates were still in the common room, playing chess and Exploding Snap, but Sirius had wanted to get some more studying done and Neville was preparing to leave for rounds.

Sirius looked up. "Ginny Weasley?"

Neville nodded. "He may be a Slytherin, but he's still a Potter and that means something. It's no secret that he was the subject of a prophecy to defeat Voldemort, and his dad and godfather were certifiable badasses at the final battle. The Lestranges and Peter Pettigrew are just the biggest names on a long list of Death Eaters that they killed. Plus, the Potter title and vaults are nothing to scoff at. So she chatted him up our fifth year, and when he didn't ask her to the Yule Ball she took it pretty bad. Of course, once it came out he was seeing Draco she went on and on about how glad she was that she didn't take _him_ up on his offer. As if he'd been the one chasing her."

Sirius sighed and laid back on his bed. "Merlin, when did birds get so complicated."

Neville shrugged. "I think the trick is to find one that isn't. Susan never plays games with me. Sure, we fight about little stuff sometimes, but the things that matter? We're behind each other 100%." Neville headed toward the door and then paused. "Sirius, why are you studying History of Magic with Hermione?"

"Fucking Head of House responsibilities," moaned Sirius, turning over and shoving his face in his pillow.

Neville shook his head. "You don't need a NEWT for that, you know. Most members of the Wizengamot hire a clerk or two who took a NEWT in it instead of taking it themselves." He looked pointedly at the grey-haired wizard, who wasn't looking up to meet his friend's eyes. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"What are you asking, Longbottom?" Sirius mutter at the wizard, face turned out of his pillow but away from Neville.

Neville frowned at his friend's avoidance, and then shook his head. "Don't fuck with her Sirius. I'm telling you right now—she is not a witch to be trifled with."

"Are you trying to warn me off Hermione?" Sirius challenged, turning to finally face the prefect.

Neville shook his head. "Only if you're fool enough to lead her on in any way. I've only known you a few weeks, Sirius, and you seem like a nice enough bloke, but if you hurt Hermione, I'm the last in a long line of people who will happily tear our your throat."

Sirius scoffed as Neville headed toward the door. "She's too much like Lily. Swotty girls were Prongs's thing. Not mine."

He missed Neville roll his eyes. "Whatever you say. Goodnight mate."

* * *

 _Thanks to jlove34, Aeireis, kunoichi, and sayochama for your feedback!_


	6. The Weasleys

_A/N: I ended up dividing this chapter into two, as my original draft moved far too quickly. It was awkward pacing, given the earlier chapters. That means Chapter 7 is already halfway done!_

 _Thanks to Analelle, SeaWitch225, jlove34, aeireis for your feedback! And thanks to everyone for reading! xx_

* * *

The weeks passed slowly for Sirius. He found himself in the unenviable position of dealing with Ginny Weasley, who had latched onto him like a barnacle. The only time she wasn't trying to hang on him was when he was in study group. She'd badger him to skip all the way to the classroom or library where the group met, shoot dirty looks at everyone but Neville, and then comment meaningfully about how she'd see him in the common room later.

"She's a fucking succubus," commented Pansy, taking a seat next to Sirius as they opened their work for Charms. "She's pretty enough, sure, but I'll be damned if she doesn't try to devour wizards with her twat. I hope you're not seriously thinking about shagging that, Sirius, because I wouldn't put it above her to get herself knocked up, hitch herself to the Black family with unwanted spawn in tow, and ruin your life with her insipidity forever."

Sirius suppressed a shudder. "I'm trying to be as polite as I can, but she doesn't seem to be taking a hint." His eyes most certainly did not flicker to Hermione, who was intently looking over Draco's homework and trying her best to ignore the clenching in her stomach as Sirius and Pansy discussed Ginny Weasley. "I'm not a big fan of redheads."

Pansy nodded. "Well, if you need recommendations, I'm well versed in most of the Hogwarts ladies." Sirius's eyes went wide, and she smiled seductively. "It _is_ boarding school, after all. Plus, now I'm a committed woman and shit. Someone should benefits from my knowledge if I can't continue to put it to good use."

"Oh, you put it to good use," said Harry playfully. "Just on one person."

"I'm particularly fond of when she…" But Hermione hitched up from Draco's work and put her hand over Luna's mouth. "Luna, dear, remember when we talked about appropriate public conversation?"

Luna nodded and looked confused. Hermione lifted her hand a bit.

"But they were talking about sex too."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, but not specifics. They were speaking generally. Obliquely, even. It's like when you talk about nargles."

"Oh." Luna thought for a moment, then smiled broadly at Hermione and wrapped the older girl in a big hug. "Thank you for explaining, Hermione."

Hermione hugged her back, and then turned back to Draco's work. "If we're all done talking about Weasley, I have a few questions about extended-length interactive charms…"

* * *

"So, should I wait for you here on Saturday morning?" Ginny asked, sliding into the seat next to Sirius's in the common room.

He sighed, marked the spot where he'd been reading about recent developments in family magic regulations for History of Magic, and looked up, frustration evident in his eyes.

"Pardon?"

"For Hogsmeade this weekend. We can meet in the common room, and then head out. I won't make you take me to Madam Puddifoot's, but I would like to go to Splintwitches for some more broom polish." Ginny put her hand on his arm and traced her fingers lightly. "If you're interested, we can come back a little early so we can have some privacy."

Sirius exhaled sharply and slammed his book shut, drawing the attention of a number of students, including Michael Corner, Parvati Patil, and Orion Potter.

"Look Ginny, I've tried to be nice, but apparently subtlety isn't your strong suit. I'll be frank: I'm not interested, OK? I don't want to go to Hogsmeade with you this weekend. I don't want to date you. At this point, I'm not even sure I'd like to be your friend. And I certainly don't appreciate you running other witches off so you can stake your claim on me." He held up his hand when she tried to protest. "Believe me, I know what you've been doing. Don't try to deny it. You and me? It's not happening."

The redhead huffed. "Granger and Parkinson have been badmouthing me to you, huh?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "They don't care enough about you to badmouth you. Anyone with half a brain could see what you're doing." He gathered his books and made for the common room door. "I'm going to the library to study, since I clearly can't get a moment's peace in my own common room. _Do not follow me_." He glared at her when she made to stand, and she flopped back into her seat and crossed her arms, clearly upset.

As he turned back to the other first years at his table, a small smile crept onto Orion's face.

* * *

"Nonverbal dueling will be the crux of your Defense NEWT." Remus stood at the front of the classroom, wand leisurely in hand. Being in class with James as the professor had been a struggle, but Remus had always been the most responsible of the Marauders and Sirius had adjusted to his Defense classes fairly well. "If you can't duel nonverbally, you should be prepared to fail the exam. Today we'll be pairing up to work on nonverbal defense skills. We'll focus on shielding and deflecting basic hexes and jinxes. No offensive spells above OWL curriculum, please!"

Sirius moved toward Neville, who had become his de facto partner in Defense.

"Hey Neville! Can you partner with me today? I really need help shielding, and I know you've already mastered it." Seamus shot Neville doe eyes, and the seventh year prefect gave Sirius a quick, apologetic glance before acquiescing to the Irishman.

"Looks like you're with me, Black." Sirius turned to see a sneering Ron.

Twenty minutes later a fuming Remus separated his nephew and best friend. Ron was coughing up slugs, and Sirius was recovering from a particularly nasty Bat-Bogey. Seamus and Michael were glaring at Sirius, Dean looked confused by the whole situation, and Neville was frowning at his roommates' behavior. Remus took twenty points from both boys and assigned them detention—on separate nights—for later in the week.

When class was dismissed, Sirius waited until the rest of the Gryffindors filed out.

"What the fuck happened, Sirius?" spat Remus. "Ron is your housemate!"

"Tell him that," muttered Sirius, pouting and wiping his nose on his handkerchief.

"Ron's a hothead, but his house loyalty borders on fanatical," said Remus, sitting down next to his friend and looking at him with exasperation. "What happened?"

"Two nights ago, I told his sister I wouldn't date her. In the process, I _might_ have insinuated she's been a little stalker-ish in her pursuit of me." He looked at Remus, who just raised his eyebrow and waited for the rest of the story. Sirius sighed dramatically. "And I did all of it in a crowded Gryffindor common room so she'd take the fucking hint and leave me the hell alone."

Remus whistled low. "Yeah. That'd do it." He eyed his friend and sighed. "I love Fabian, and most of the Weasley kids are great, but Ron and Ginny are real pieces of work. Ron has always had an inferiority complex, given how successful his older brothers are, and Molly has filled Ginny's head with dreams of marrying well so she could live like a princess. Just"—he put his hand on Sirius's shoulder supportively—"stay out of their way until NEWTs, yeah? Ron's impulsive, but Ginny has a vindictive streak like nothing I've ever seen. She's usually not subtle when she wants something, but she can connive with the best of them if the situation calls for it. Just four more months, and then you won't have to worry about them anymore."

* * *

January's full moon had been on a weekend, so Remus and Fabian had spent it at Prewett Place.

"Fabian and Gideon went through animagus training as Aurors," James explained when Sirius asked why they weren't spending the weekend with their friend. "Fabian's a coyote, which works well for Remus's wolf. It took Trick a few moons to get used to Prongs, but since you're a canine too you shouldn't have any issues when we spend the moon with them in February."

The evening before February's full moon, Sirius spent his after-dinner hours in the Potter's suite.

"We'll meet them just before moonrise," said James, offering Sirius a butterbeer. "They like to spend some time alone working out their energy before heading to the Shack."

"They shag like bunny rabbits?" Sirius grinned.

James nodded. "Fabian always shows up to the shack with a shit-eating grin on his face. Wait 'til you see Moony fawn over Trick. I don't know who thought wolves were big and bad, but around his mate Moony is a goddam teddybear."

Sirius laughed at the concept of a cuddly Moony. "You know, Hermione mastered her animagus form. She's a kneazle."

James nodded. "I must say, the name Lady fits her. Remus has agreed to let her join next moon, if all goes well with you coming back to the Pack. He didn't want to overwhelm Moony or Trick, particularly since she's feline."

James looked over at his friend, who was leaning back in his chair. Sirius looked exactly the same as he had twenty years ago, which was no surprise; what was a surprise, however, was how edgy his friend seemed to be. The Sirius Black that James remembered was the picture of cool and collected, but something had clearly changed.

James didn't know if it was the time travel or something entirely different.

"How are you doing with everything, Sirius?"

"Fine," he responded automatically.

"Really?" asked James.

Sirius paused. "Why didn't you put a stop to Hermione's surrogacy?"

James knew this wasn't as stark a conversation change as it seemed to be. This was the second time in ten minutes that Hermione Granger's name had come up, and both Lily and Remus had commented on the dance the two were doing around each other.

James was thrilled that his friend was taking interest in such a worthy witch, even if Sirius didn't yet realize that was what he was doing. However, a part of him was anxious that Sirius's interest could jeopardize the relationship between his son, his future son-in-law, and the witch in question. Even James had taken some time to get used to the idea of Harry bonding to Draco and having Hermione carry their heirs through surrogacy, and he loved Draco and Hermione.

If Hermione's interest mirrored Sirius's, as everyone seemed to think it did, it could cause friction that rippled well beyond the four. James didn't think she'd back out of the surrogacy contract—Hermione wasn't that kind of witch—but the fall out could be emotionally brutal.

"I didn't stop it because I actually think it's great. First of all, Hermione is exactly the kind of woman I'd want giving me grandchildren. If Harry was attracted to women, I would have encouraged him to pursue her. As it is, she's already become part of this family, and she's completely committed to the idea of helping Harry and Draco in this way. But most importantly"—he made sure to catch Sirius's eye for this—"she's Muggle-born."

Sirius frowned. "What does that have to do with anything? Are you worried a pure-blood surrogate would cause political issues for you?" James could see his friend getting worked up that Hermione's blood status had somehow played a role in her position. "I can't believe you James! Isn't this what you all fought a war against? Why should her fucking blood status matter one bit? She's worth twenty of those stupid pure-blood bints anyway!"

Sirius's voice was loud and his breathing heavy, and a small light dawned in his eyes and a faint blush rose to his cheeks when he realized what he said.

James suppressed a grin at his friend's reaction. "You misunderstand me, Sirius. I don't care a fig for her blood status, but the fact that she was raised in the Muggle world means she thinks about surrogacy very differently than those of us raised in the magical world." He held up his hand at Sirius's protest. "I _know_ it's different here, and everyone—I mean _everyone—_ has spoken with her about the implications of surrogacy. Fabian told her about deciding to have his nephew inherit rather than finding a surrogate, and you _know_ how close to the chest the Prewetts keep family business.

"But she _wants_ this. And I don't think it's because she's scared she'll never find love or settle or down or have children of her own, though I know she hasn't had the best luck in her romantic life. You have to understand, Hermione is a problem-solver: she does what she can to help those around her. The possibility of _not_ helping never crosses her mind. So even with the social fall-out, she won't be dissuaded."

James watched his friend process that information, but couldn't quite discern what was going through the young wizard's mind.

"She's an amazing witch, Pads, and we're very lucky to count her as part of our family. I promise you we won't steer her wrong."

A silence fell over the two, until James grinned broadly and clapped his friend on his shoulder. "C'mon, let's hit up Moony's quarters early and howl outside the door until those degenerates stop shagging and come out."

* * *

Things were tense in Gryffindor. Sirius still spoke with Neville and Dean Thomas, who he was coming to genuinely like, but the rest of the seventh years and most of the sixth years avoided him like the plague—well, the girls alternated between avoiding him and propositioning him. When Neville off on prefect duties and no study group was scheduled, Sirius found himself hanging out with, of all people, Orion. Ron still glared at him, while Ginny alternated between tossing lustful looks toward him and scoffing when she caught his eye.

He finally asked Harry what to do, and the miniature-James groaned.

"It's a lose-lose situation, mate," he said, his voice sympathetic. "If you ignore her any more than you already are, she'll get pissed and make even more overt gestures. If you respond, you fan the flames. The best you can hope for is that she gets her eye on someone else so the heat's off you."

* * *

"So what's the deal with you and Luna anyway," Sirius asked Pansy one evening as they were revising for Care of Magical Creatures. "She's a little…"

"If you say loony, Black, you'll never father children."

"…unconventional." He shrugged when Pansy glared at him. "Come off it Parkinson. You're like a Merlin-forsaken tsunami most days and she's…"

"She's a rainbow," finished Pansy, smiling softly at her work. "She's bright and different and fanciful and special, she brings happiness to my life." She looked up and narrowed her eyes at the wizard. "And I have sent people to the infirmary for looking at her wrong, so get out your questions now while I'm feeling generous."

"How did it happen?"

Pansy smirked. "Well, you see Black, when two people love each other _this much_ they do what's called a friendship handshake with their mouths and…"

"Fucking Merlin, stop!" He threw up his hands and she laughed. "I have to see enough of it, I don't need a play by play! I meant, how did you get together? You don't strike me as someone willing to put up with Luna's… eccentricities… long enough to discover you liked the witch."

Pansy waved her hand dismissively. "A mutual friend encouraged us."

Sirius nodded. "Hermione?"

"She said I needed someone to moderate my confrontational tendencies." Pansy sighed wistfully. "She tried, Circe knows she tried, but after a few weeks of fooling around she figured out she really did prefer wizards. She started talking about her pretty little blonde friend, and I next thing I know I'm plotting how to get into Luna's knickers. That turned out to be unnecessary."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. Pansy shrugged.

"It was on the train ride coming back from Yule break fifth year; I was in a compartment with Harry, Hermione, and Draco. Luna walked in, sat right down beside me, took my hand, and said, 'I think we should find our own compartment so I can snog you without an audience. Unless you'd like them to watch. I'm not into voyeurism, but it's a soft limit for me.'"

Sirius groaned. "I see how long that lasted."

Pansy smiled. "What can I say, I like to push limits. Anyway, Hermione had this shit-eating grin on her face the whole time, and Harry and Draco laughed, but I was catching flies for a good few minutes before she shrugged and kissed me in front of them all. And the rest is history."

Sirius looked at his hands. "And your family?"

Pansy scoffed. "I've been hiding the fact that I'm into girls since third year, though I've fooled around with about half of the witches our year and above. I played the sweet little princess card, for my father, and waxed romantically about marrying for love so he wouldn't sign a contract for me. Then I turned 17, at which point I told my parents I was queer, hot for a Lovegood, and that they could go fuck themselves. They can't do anything now that I'm of-age, and I told them if they tried to force my family magic to do anything I'd go to the _Prophet_ with everything I knew about Daddy's 'supposed' _Imperius_ during the war. He blasted me off the family tree, and I've spent every break since with Luna."

Sirius watched the girl tell her story with feigned nonchalance, but as someone who had also been blasted off his family tree he could see the small hurt in her eyes. But Pansy wasn't a Slytherin for nothing, and she shuttered that feeling away to her most secret place. Sirius imagined that only Luna was privy to her true feelings, and then probably only because Luna was so intuitive that she simply ignored Pansy's defenses.

It must have been nice to have someone like that. In his former life—only months ago for him, really—that had been Moony and Prongs, but now… things were just too different for them to be what they had once been to him. His heart ached for the intimacy of those friendships, and he acutely felt the void in his heart where the Marauders used to be.

Sirius finally smiled at Pansy, knowing they both wanted to avoid the emotionally fraught direction the conversation was headed. "I could start a blood feud with them, if you want."

Pansy laughed. "Please don't. If my father thinks he's garnered the attention of the House of Black in _any way_ , even negatively, his head my explode from self-importance." She paused, considering the wizard in front of her before continuing. "I've been trained from birth to expect to be taken into another family's magic through marriage. The Parkinson family magics have never been strong enough to maintain a presence after a bonding, so I was never fanatical about any Parkinson legacy. Circe-willing, Luna will bond with me after she graduates, and then I'll take the Lovegood name." She looked at Sirius smugly. "You know the Lovegoods can trace their heritage all the way back to Nyneve?"

Sirius's jaw dropped.

* * *

"Where's Draco?" Sirius asked, dropping into the seat next to Hermione. "Can we even have Potions study group without him?"

The first signals of spring had appeared in early March, but NEWTs were slowly drawing closer so the group had forgone the day's Hogsmeade trip for studying, despite the gorgeous weather.

Sirius was increasingly grateful for study group, as it got him out of the wildly-uncomfortable common room. After his dismissal of Ginny Weasley and the subsequent duel with Ron, he'd become an odd figure within the House. He was still lusted after by many girls—he'd taken to sitting with Orion as often as possible to avoid overly-handsy girls in the upper years—but the golden family of Gryffindor had declared him anathema, so mostly he was subject to glares and hissed verbal abuse. The middle years didn't quite know what to make of his presence, particularly since he seemed to be friendly with their Head of House, so they took on a neutral stance toward his presence. Because of his friendliness with Orion, the first and second years liked him, but hanging out with preteens got very old very quickly.

It seemed, for the most part, the House of Godric Gryffindor was just biding its time until time-traveling Sirius Black graduated and let them all get back to things as usual.

Harry shrugged from across the table. "Hogsmeade. His mother sent him an owl requesting he meet her for lunch. It wasn't apologetic _per se_ , but it was contrite enough for him to meet her. He thinks she's trying to salvage their relationship without explicitly accepting our engagement."

Hermione nodded. "She's all he's got left. She still hasn't made amends with the Tonkses, and everyone else is dead. She'd be an idiot not to work things out with you two."

Harry frowned. "She might be willing to work things out with _him_ , but we'll never have her approval, Hermione. You know that, right? We're all in for decades of awkward family get-togethers. The best we can hope for is that she's not openly adversarial to us."

"If she is, she'll wish that she died along with Lucius in the last war." Hermione voice was hard and full of fierceness and, unbidden, Sirius cock responded to her viciousness.

He closed his eyes and willed his erection to disappear.

"So no Draco," said Pansy, grinning at Harry. "Does that mean we can go over love potions without watching you and your boyfriend play grab-ass all afternoon."

Harry sighed. "Just take away all my fun, why don't you?"


	7. The Unpleasant (and Unwelcome) Surprise

_A/N: This is the last pre-written chapter, so it may be a bit before I update again (I have some other writing & RL obligations to attend to). That said, you know what always inspires writing? Feedback! But even if you don't leave a review, I'm glad you're here and reading my little, silly tale. xx_

 _Thanks to those of you who reviewed the last chapter: SeaWitch25, Snaperipper (I adore your username, BTW), and Analelle!_

* * *

When the Great Hall went silent at dinner that night, Sirius turned around to see what had astounded the students of Hogwarts.

His jaw dropped when he saw Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy, holding hands with Ginny Weasley. And the hand he was holding had a very conspicuous ring on a very important finger.

All eyes in the Great Hall watched as Draco Malfoy escorted Ginny to the Gryffindor table, hand in hand. There were audible gasps when he kissed her on the cheek before leaving to take a seat at the Ravenclaw table.

Even more confusion abounded when he did _not_ sit with Hermione and Luna, but instead positioned himself between a shocked Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot.

Sirius looked at Neville, but his friend did not make eye contact with him; he was too busy watching Harry across the Great Hall. Sirius followed his gaze to where the mini-James sat, white as a sheet, mouth set in an impassive line. For being the son of two Gryffindors, Harry had certainly mastered the traditional Slytherin mask: aside from his pale coloring, there were no visible reactions to his fiancé's behavior. However, only a few moments after Draco had started on his dinner, Harry finished his pumpkin juice, dabbed his mouth with his napkin, and left.

The whole Great Hall, including the Head Table, watched him go and noise erupted when the doors closed behind him.

Sirius searched the room for reactions. Hermione looked near tears; she bowed her head and whispered furiously to Luna. After what looked to be calming words from the younger Ravenclaw, Sirius saw the curly-haired witch jump up from the table and race after Harry, while Luna stood and went to comfort a stoic-looking Pansy.

At the Head Table, the Professors Potter had eyes as wide as saucers, and Lily looked like she might spontaneously combust. She didn't openly glare at Ginny—she didn't even make eye contact with the redhead—but Sirius could feel the inferno of ire radiating from his friend.

Ginny, for her part, had started a conversation about Quidditch with Vicky Frobisher as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. A handful of students near her tried to ask about Draco, but she simply ignored them as if they didn't exist and this were another, normal dinner at Hogwarts.

She did, however, send Sirius a smug look, waving at him with her left hand in a way that showed off her ostentatious diamond.

* * *

"What the fuck did you do?" yelled Sirius, shoving Draco against a wall.

Sirius had followed the blond when he left the Great Hall after dinner that night. Draco had not headed for the library, as was the _modus operandi_ with their group after dinner; instead, he made for the owlery. A few others had headed that way, but Sirius had warned them off with a few well-placed glares and one whispered 'Get fucking lost' to tiny, mostly confused second year 'Puff.

"Take your hands off me, Black," spat Draco. "Or I'll report you to Flitwick."

"Guess how many fucks I give," the dark-haired wizard retorted, tightening his grip on the blond's robe. "What were you doing with Weasley?"

Draco's eyebrow shot up. "What, _now_ you want a go with her? Too late, Black. You had your chance, and your loss is my gain. Ginevra and I are betrothed. I signed the papers in Hogsmeade today."

"I'm not daft you blond bimbo. Anyone with half a brain knows what that vulgar ring on her finger means. What I want to know is _why_?"

Draco scoffed and looked at Sirius like he was an idiot. "I'm the last of the Malfoys, Black. I need a respectable marriage to a pure-blood girl. I wasn't going to get that with Potter. And I'm certainly not raising any half-blood bastards of that bitch."

Sirius's vision went red, and he socked Draco in the jaw. He kept hitting him and hitting him, until he heard a voice yell stop and felt strong arms jerk him back.

"Fucking stop, Padfoot!" cried Remus, while James crouched down and muttered healing charms over his son's… well, _former_ fiancé.

When Sirius could see again, he found Draco groggy and quite bloody. James was clutching something in his hand—Sirius assumed they were _Accioed_ teeth—as he helped the boy up.

"I'll see you expelled for that, Black," Draco sneered, though the effect was lost when Draco winced immediately after the expression.

"I knew it!" cried Sirius. "I knew you were a bloody git. Fuck you, Malfoy, and all your fucking lies. You're just like your father, aren't you? You'll do anything to move up in the world, and you don't give a shit about anyone but yourself."

Draco stood tall and adjusted his robes. "I could only hope to be the kind of man my father was, Black. Just because you're an embarrassment to your family name doesn't mean you should take your failure out on others."

James, Remus, and Sirius were left gaping as Draco walked out of the owlery and in the direction of the Infirmary.

* * *

"A spell? The _Imperius?_ " asked James.

Remus shook his head. "I checked before he left the owlery. He's clean."

"How about he's a bloody Malfoy!" cried Sirius. James had poured a round of firewhiskys, throwing a significant look at Sirius when he pushed the liquor to his friend. "I _told_ you all he couldn't be trusted. But no, I listened to you about how great Draco- _bloody_ -Malfoy was, and this is what happens! I can't believe I fell for his shit!"

"Shut the fuck up, Padfoot," James said sharply, glaring at his friend. "What were you thinking—you'd beat an explanation out of him?"

"How about I was thinking about your kid, Prongs! Your kid—the one who couldn't stand to be in the Great Hall when he saw his fiancé with a… a new fiancée!" Sirius flopped back on the sofa and fumed. "Have you even been to see your mini-me?"

"I have." The wizards turned to see Lily step through the door. "He's… he's not saying much." Her sad look told them everything they needed to know about how Harry was doing. She walked to the trio of wizards and poured a glass so firewhisky for herself, knocking it back in one gulp.

James put his head in his hands, and Remus turned to look at Sirius.

"Look, Pads, I know this is confirming your worst suspicions about Draco, but take it from us"—he gestured around the room—"the Draco we know, that we've grown to know over the last seven years, would _not_ do what he did today. He's never been into women, Pads; he's as gay as they come."

Sirius glared. "So what then? If not _Imperius_ , then what? Love potions wouldn't have him talking the way he did about his father."

"But coupled with loyalty or obedience potions, they would." Lily's eyes were lit with a raging fire, and her hair was starting to cackle like Hermione's when she went on a creature rights diatribe. "And Ginny Weasley might be near failing my class, but Molly…"

"Molly is brilliant with them." James finished, a proverbial lightbulb going off in his eyes. He looked to Sirius. "She brewed all the potions for the Order during the war."

No one looked at Remus, who was staring at his knees in consternation. Eventually, he sighed and looked up.

"Molly's always been preoccupied with money and status. She married into the Weasleys before Septimus made a bunch of bad investments and practically wiped out all of the family wealth. She loves Arthur, she really does, but she's always been bitter about their financial situation. She expected a much different life than the one she has. She's nearly wiped through her trust already; Fabian says she's started hinting at him refilling it from the main Prewett vault." Remus rubbed his temples. "She's been talking to Ginny about being a princess and marrying a pure-blood prince since she was a little girl. She wants her little girl to have the life she feels she _deserved_."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Fucking pure-bloods," she muttered. James shot her a sympathetic look and shrugged.

"But why target Draco?" asked Sirius. "It may not be common knowledge that he was engaged to Harry, but it's pretty fucking evident he's as bent as a right angle."

"Most pure-bloods won't bat an eye, Pads," said James sadly. "They'll say the same thing you've been saying, _especially_ since the engagement wasn't common knowledge."

"Could it be a spell?" asked Lily. "Is there anything that could mimic a combination of love and loyalty potions?"

Remus shook his head. "For that marked of a difference in personality? No, not aside from the _Imperius_. If he's being coerced into his actions, it's through potions."

"So Poppy gives him a flushing draught," said Lily, leaning back with a look of relief. "That seems like an easy enough fix."

James shook his head. "No, Lily, it's not. Remember, Draco took his family ring—he's the Head of the House of Malfoy now. He has complete autonomy over his medical care and well-being."

Lily just blinked at him, confused, while the other two moaned in realization.

"He also cannot be questioned or held on legal concerns without his consent. He's not a student anymore, Lily, not in the same way Orion or Dorea or even Harry is. He's untouchable," said Remus. "You can't just… hell, the fact that I checked him for the _Imperius_ without consent could see me fined heavily or even jailed. And if he's being coerced, whoever is doing it would have made sure that he wouldn't consent to a flushing draught just because of our suspicions."

Sirius looked at the people around the table—his best friends, his fellow Mauraders, and the witch who'd spent years keeping them in line—and his face broke out in a sly grin. "So we make him _ask_ for one."

* * *

The Marauders and Lily had to wait a week to implement their plan, when the fifth years would be reviewing Shrinking Solutions. They had planned for some of it to 'mysteriously' go missing and end up in Draco's breakfast the following morning; that way, there would be a moderately plausible reason for Draco's 'accident.' Lily was a little upset at the thought she'd be purposefully poisoning a student, but her professional ethics eventually took a back seat to her instincts as a mother lion: for both her own cub and also the one she'd all but adopted as his mate.

However, it was a very long week of waiting, and all of Sirius's friends were walking around in various states of shock. Pansy had glued herself to Harry's side, as both a shoulder to cry on and a protector from curious students; Hermione was alternating between comforting Harry and mourning what looked to be the loss of her best friend. Neville and Sirius focused on running interference for the three, specifically so they didn't have to come into contact with Draco or Ginny too often.

For her part, Ginny had told Lavender and Parvati that she and Draco had been betrothed for some time and that she understood his 'last hurrah' with Harry, even if she didn't approve of it. She played the magnanimous girlfriend, forgiving her beloved while he sowed his wild oats. The older girls, who were considered the gossip queens of Hogwarts, bought the redhead's story hook, line, and sinker, and Draco's picture-perfect treatment of Ginny as a pure-blood princess did nothing to dispel the subsequent rumors.

The day before the plan to shrink Draco was scheduled, Sirius found Hermione crying softly in a corner of the library. She was curled up in an overstuffed armchair, her knees bent beneath her and hidden by her skirt, her head in her hands. Sirius came up, circled around to the back of the chair, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"Wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head, but grabbed his arms and held them. "No."

He nodded and simply held her. She cried and squeezed his arms, and he felt the week's frustration and anger and sadness flow out of her. He didn't offer words of encouragement or tell her everything would be OK—James was adamant about keeping their plan a secret, _just in case—_ so she wouldn't believe any words of comfort _._ He imagined, however, that Hermione hadn't had much of a chance to grieve for her friend, since she'd focused mostly on comforting Harry.

"He called me a mudblood," she finally whispered between sobs.

Sirius's head jerked up at the confession. She was staring at her hands, still holding onto his arms, and he was still behind her so they didn't make eye contact. He felt his stomach clench and anger begin to boil up within him. He pushed his response down, and she continued.

"When we came back from dinner, Luna and I, we stayed in the common room to work on her Magical Creatures essay. He came in with Goldstein—they've gotten chummy this last week—and said he was going to complain to the elves that he common room was filthy."

She paused, and Sirius took the opportunity to move around her. He sat on the ground, and Hermione slid out of the armchair so they would be eye level. He held her hands and silently encouraged her to go on.

"He was glaring at me when he said it, so I asked him if he had something to say to me. As if I didn't understand the implication." She let out a half-hearted chuckle. "He said, 'As if I would have anything to say to a mudblood.' And then he and Goldstein went up to the dorms. They were laughing."

"They're assholes," said Sirius, pulling her in to a hug. Her eyes were red and puffy, and he was definitely ignoring the fact that he probably had snot on his robe from her sniffling. Though she was a complete mess, he couldn't help think that she was lovely.

"I'm going to curse his whole stupid face for making you cry like this," said Sirius, and he smiled when she let out a brief laugh.

"Could you curse his dick instead? I feel like that way we could punish both him and that stupid bint for being foul little cockroaches."

Sirius barked out a laugh and rubbed her back. "Yeah, I could do that." He pulled back a bit. "Wanna get away for a bit? Taking Lady out for a prowl might make you feel better."

Hermione wiped her face with her sleeve and nodded. "Will you come?"

He nodded and grinned. "Yeah. Padfoot's been meaning to show her who's the boss."

* * *

It was abundantly clear after a night romping through the Forbidden Forest that Padfoot was _not_ the boss.

* * *

The next day, the Marauders and Lily sat anxiously at breakfast, determined not to act out of the ordinary. Remus had convinced the elves to lace Draco's goblet with the potion, claiming it was a matter of school security.

The elves were suspicious of the werewolf's motivations, but Remus was a professor of Hogwarts and Shrinking Solution in small doses wouldn't kill Draco, so they did it.

The professors and Sirius all feigned surprise when a commotion arose at the Ravenclaw table as Draco shrunk to the size of a first year. His cheeks were bright with embarrassment, and he pitched a fit as he left the Great Hall for the infirmary, muddling along in his oversized shoes and robes. Ginny flew from the Gryffindor table in pursuit of her fiancé.

Headmistress McGonagall and Filius Flitwick both followed at a much more leisurely pace.

Harry never once looked up from his meal.

When breakfast ended, Sirius ducked into an alcove and slipped on James's invisibility cloak. He didn't have much experience with reconnaissance—that had always been Peter's specialty, damn rat that he was—but as the smallest of the four he was nominated to use the cloak to spy on Draco.

He could tell things were going their way before he slipped through the door, left ajar in Draco's haste.

"Miss Weasley, I'm not sure why you're even here." Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips and frowned at the redheaded witch who was trying to comfort an embarrassed and frustrated Draco.

Ginny stamped her foot petulantly. "I'm his _fiancée."_ She elongated the final word as if Madam Pomfrey was slow on the uptake, which only cause the older witch to frown more. "And he wants me here, don't you darling?"

Sirius shivered at the saccharine tone of her voice.

Draco still looked angry about his petite state, but when Ginny lifted his chin and made eye contact, his eyes shifted. They both narrowed on her to focus and became a bit cloudy with confusion. After a moment, he smiled at her and nodded.

Madam Pomfrey huffed. "Be that as it may, Miss Weasley, you are not a healer. Lord Malfoy has not lost his mental faculties in this accident, and, as such, he does not need your approval for his course of treatment. And as his healer, I need you to leave. I will let you know when he can have visitors."

"But… but… you need to consult Regent Malfoy! She should be in charge of his care!" cried Ginny.

"There is no more Regent Malfoy, now that Draco has claimed his House ring," Flitwick explained to the fuming girl. "There is only the Dowager Malfoy. If Draco wants to take the flushing draught, Miss Weasley, then Madam Pomfrey will administer it."

Ginny began to argue again, until Madam Pomfrey lost her composure. "Miss Weasley, I must insist that you remove yourself from the infirmary this instant, before I stun you and levitate you to the hallway myself!"

"Come, child, I will walk you back to the Tower," said the Headmistress, wrapping her arm around Ginny shoulders. The younger witch looked lost and confused and furious, but she allowed herself to be herded out of the infirmary with a final, longing look at Draco.

"Now, Lord Malfoy, I still believe a flushing draught is your best course of action." She glanced at Flitwick, making sure there wasn't some reason for Ginny's opposition to the draught that he might know of. The half-goblin nodded his agreement with her, and she continued. "We do not know how much Shrinking Solution you ingested, or how long it might have an effect on you. With the draught, I can guarantee you're back to normal for your classes this afternoon. Without it, it may take weeks to wear off."

"Are there any other options?" He asked, his eyes still clouded from his interactions with Ginny.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "I"m afraid not. You wouldn't need to wait here for the Shrinking Solution to wear off, if you didn't want to; you'd be able to attend classes and play in Quidditch matches. However, we have no idea how long it would take for you to return to normal."

Draco sighed, took the offered vial from Madam Pomfrey, and knocked it back in one gulp. He pulled a face as he handed the empty vial to the matron. "I don't know why she's so upset about the draught. I just want to be back to normal so I can wrap her in my arms, and I can't do that looking like a first year. Is that a crime?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. If there was any doubt Draco been dosed with Amortentia, it was gone in Sirius's mind. Run-of-the-mill Malfoy evilness or Slytherin duplicity toward the Potters, he would buy. Being besotted with Ginny Weasley? Not a chance.

Unfortunately, the draught prevented Madam Pomfrey from giving Draco a sleeping potion, although she looked like she was ready to knock the boy out with her wand. Draco waxed on and on about Ginny's fiery red hair and beautiful freckles and broom-flying skills.

After about twenty minutes, Madam Pomfrey frowned and ran another diagnostic. "It shouldn't be taking quite this long. Do you have any other potions in your system, Lord Malfoy? A nutrient potion or a contraceptive potion, perhaps?"

Draco shook his head, and the matron shrugged. "Then we wait. Tell me if you start to feel different."

After another ten minutes, the praise of Ginny Weasley subsided. Draco groaned and leaned back on the hospital bed, closing his eyes. Sirius watched as the boy's body slowly started growing—his white-blond hair growing longer from when he started growing it out over Christmas, his facial features took on a harder edge, his shoulders broadened, and his chest filled out—not much, the boy was very much a Seeker, even in his build, but certainly enough to indicate he was more man than child.

When Draco started growing taller, and his face took on a confused and wistful expression, Sirius slipped out into the hallway, shed the cloak, and sent a Patronus to James.

 _Infirmary. Now._

Sirius tucked the cloak under his arm and waited a few minutes until he heard low chatter coming from inside. He politely knocked on the door. "Madame Pomfrey? I was hoping to check in and see how Draco was doing?" He held his breath and waited to see how the Ravenclaw wizard responded to his presence.

Draco, looking just like the wizard Sirius had met at Yule, turned to meet Sirius's eyes. At the sight of dark-haired wizard, relief flooded the blond's face.

And then Lord Draco Malfoy, Head of the House of Malfoy, broke down in tears.

* * *

 _A/N: I know it seems like the potioning of Draco moved fairly quick, but TBH it's not really the main conflict of the story. There will be fallout-oh there will be fallout-but I couldn't have my boys separated and Harry pining away for too long. I adore them too much to do that to them :)_


	8. The Misunderstanding

_A/N: I went from no jobs (wah wah) to two jobs last month (woot woot!), so my schedule has been crazy wonky._ The Future Imperfect _is my low-hanging fruit, in terms of finishing a story, so if you're also reading_ Pax Matrum _, have no fear-I haven't forgotten it! I just have so much love for our time-traveling Marauder and needed to get this second conflict off my chest, and writing a post-baby Hermione in_ PM _has been surprisingly difficult_.

 _The fallout from Draco's potioning is still to come, but I wanted to resolve our main couple's awkward dance around each other first. This was basically a fun chapter for me before I delved back into consequences and whatnot._

 _Thanks to those of you who have left reviews: WishIHadANifflier, kunoichi, Annalelle, Blue Raging Fire111, Indulgentbookworm, KateKat1992, ndavis77, Ninjasnowflake, HarryMalfoy09, ksouza3, kat11c, and bookworm2009_

* * *

When James and Lily arrived moments later, Sirius slipped out of the room. Despite his role in flushing the potions from Draco, and despite his closeness to the Potters, he felt like an intruder. If Draco had been raised like a Black—and with Narcissa as his mother, Sirius couldn't imagine otherwise—visible emotions were verboten. Especially crying.

He wandered to the library and spent the next hour studying next to Harry, Hermione, and Pansy. They were subdued, as they'd been all weekend, and it was everything Sirius could do to not jump up and down and let them know everything had been fixed.

Or, at least, he thought everything had been fixed.

As they were packing up for Potions, Neville walked in and collapsed in a chair at their table. "Don't bother. Potions is cancelled."

"Is everything OK?" asked Hermione, shooting a sidelong glance at Harry.

Neville shrugged. "I passed Professor Potter on the way here; she was putting a note on the classroom door. She didn't say much, just that class was cancelled, and then she ran off." He looked at Harry. "Is everything OK with Dorea and Orion?"

He shrugged. "I haven't seen them since breakfast." He tried not to look concerned, but Hermione patted his arm anyway.

"I'm sure everything is fine. If it wasn't, your parents would find you. They know where to look."

Two hours later, the group packed up for Charms, only to be confronted by another 'Class Cancelled' sign.

"What in the actual fuck?" asked Pansy. "Do they realize we have NEWTs coming up?"

Sirius pursed his lips and forced himself not to respond.

* * *

When Harry disappeared midday, pulled from Care of Magical Creatures by James, Hermione started getting visibly nervous.

"Another romp in the forest?" asked Sirius when he found her back in the library.

She shook her head and looked up. "I need to finish this Arithmancy homework." She smiled at him, and he couldn't help it as the corners of his mouth clicked upward in a grin that matched hers. She had thrown her hair up in a loose bun, and Sirius could see the faintest hint of lipgloss on her otherwise bare face.

He sat down next to her. "When's it due?"

"Next week." She crossed her legs, and her toe hit his shin. She immediately tucked her foot behind the leg of her chair to prevent further contact, and Sirius watched in the corner of his eye as her skirt hitched up a small bit on her leg, exposing the skin where knee became thigh.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly tight.

"Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?" The words were out of his mouth before his brain could catch up to him.

She froze and stared at the work in front of her. After a moment she whispered, "What?"

He cleared his throat. "Will you go to Hogsmeade with me? This weekend?"

His chest tightened when he didn't receive an immediate response. Another beat, and Hermione, still looking down at her homework, her mouth drawn in a hard line, asked, "Why?"

That hadn't been the reaction he'd expected, and he frowned. "Why not?"

She looked up, her eyes shiny from accumulating tears. "Why now?"

"Why not now? Hermione, what's wrong? I didn't mean to upset you. I thought…"

"You thought what? Now that I'm not locked into a surrogacy contract I'm a worthwhile date?" There was fire in her eyes—she was angry and hurt. The tendrils of hair that had fallen from her bun started to frizz just a bit, a clear sign they'd be sparking soon. A single tear escaped from her eye, and she quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand. "Now that I didn't have the _stain_ of carrying another wizard's child in the future you could deign to be interested in me? Well guess what, Sirius? I'm not interested in you!"

With one quick spell she swept up her belongs and was gone.

Sirius's mouth was hanging open, the boy frozen in place as he processed what had just happened.

* * *

When he found Neville in their room before dinner, the tall Gryffindor punched him in the jaw.

"Merlin's balls, what the hell was that for?" cried Sirius, rubbing his mouth.

"I told you not to fuck with Hermione."

Sirius growled. "If you would unbunch your knickers for five seconds, I'd tell you our conversation was one huge misunderstanding. My timing was bollocks, but that I really do want to take her to Hogsmeade. I don't give a shit about whether or not she's a surrogate!"

For the second time that day, Sirius's words tumbled out of his mouth before his brain could catch up.

"Surrogate… what?" Neville furrowed his brow. Sirius watched in horror as realization dawned on his housemate. "Oh fuck, for Harry and Draco?"

Sirius closed his eyes and rubbed his face with his hands. "Neville… dammit, Neville, you can't tell _anyone_."

Neville sat on his bed, wide eyed. "I can't believe they'd ask her to do that."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "I don't know the specifics, but as I understand it no one pressured her. Everyone, and I mean everyone, has told her what it would mean to be a surrogate in the wizarding world. And, most importantly, it's none of your fucking business, so forget you heard it."

Neville returned Sirius's glare. "I've been friends with Hermione longer than you've been around. I won't do anything to hurt her, unlike _some_ people."

The implication was clear.

"I didn't mean to hurt her!" Sirius was practically yelling.

"But you did, Sirius," said Neville frostily. He stood up and made his way back toward the door of the dorm. "Even if you didn't mean it. She may have misunderstood your intensions, but with this week and everything she's been through, she took it like a punch in the gut. Moreover, she doesn't have Draco to talk to, since he went off the deep end. I think she's with Luna and Pansy now, and if I were you I would give those three a wide berth. They're vicious when angry, and I'm pretty sure Pansy is ready to _Diffindo_ the next person who crosses her."

Sirius fell back on his bed. "Fuck."

* * *

For being a hero and saving his best friend's kid's fiancé from potion-induced misery, Sirius was having a shitty day. He was dragging his feet in the direction of the Great Hall for what he assumed would be an equally-dismal dinner when he heard an atrocious shriek.

"How _dare_ you levy these accusations at me, Minerva!"

"Molly, calm down."

"Calm down? _Calm down_! You're on a literal witch-hunt here: all speculation and no proof! And I'm sure all your concerns have been raised because of the Potters. Their son is _unnatural_ , Minerva, and you can't blame Lady Malfoy for wanting to remove Draco from his sphere of influence."

Sirius peered around the corner, where he saw McGonagall facing off against a red-faced woman who could only be the Weasley matriarch. Her face turned the same purple color as Ron's when he was angry, and her auburn hair was the exact same shade as Fabian's.

The headmistress pursed her lips. "First of all, it's _Dowager_ Malfoy. No matter her manipulations, Narcissa is no longer in a position of power within her House. And Molly, I will not entertain a single bad word about Harry Potter. He is an excellent student and an upstanding young man."

"He's a _Slytherin!_ " she cried. Sirius cringed, recognizing his own initial reaction to Harry.

"He's a good lad, one your youngest son would do well to model himself after."

He thought the Weasley woman would blow up right then and there, but her meltdown was interrupted by the Headmistress, who's voice was tight and controlled, though only just.

"It's only fair to warn you, Molly, that the goblins are investigating the situation. They consider the matter an attempted theft from one of their customers, which is a charge they do _not_ take lightly; if this goes before the Wizengamot, the involved parties could be found guilty of attempted Line Theft. The Malfoys are at Gringotts now, and I have no doubt that Narcissa Malfoy will do anything to salvage what she can from this fiasco, including implicating anyone else who might be involved." Sirius saw the headmistress raise and eyebrow. "If I were such a person, I would start preparing for the fall out as soon as possible."

* * *

Tuesday morning Draco and Harry walked into Transfiguration holding hands. Hermione was next to them with a small smile on her face.

Everyone stared in shock. Everyone, except Sirius, who smiled.

Of course, he immediately made eye contact with Hermione, who glared at him and plopped down next to Pansy.

As he launched into the day's lecture, James narrowed his eyes at the dynamics of the group.

* * *

"I don't know what to tell you, Pads." Remus leaned back in his chair and watched his dark-haired friend huff.

"She won't even let me explain!" Sirius cried. He'd come to Moony's quarters looking for sympathy and suggestions. He'd found the former, but not the latter.

"She's a headstrong witch," said Remus. "She means well, but she's stubborn. She's looked at the situation and drawn an erroneous conclusion based on coincidental circumstances." The werewolf leaned back and offered his friend a small smile. "Her emotions are interfering with her rational thinking. We professors call this 'being a teenager.'"

Sirius groaned. "C'mon Moony, be helpful. What do I do?"

Remus laughed. "Suffer, or find another bird."

Sirius pouted. "I don't want another bird."

The older man raised an eyebrow at that. James had said Sirius was increasingly interested in the curly-haired witch who had become part of their family, but Remus had taken that pronouncement with a grain of salt; Sirius had always been a bit of a lothario and never wanted for romantic company long.

"I get stuck in the future where everyone, including my best friend's kids, are telling me how special this witch is, how amazing she is, how she's the only one worth dating. She's infuriating and brilliant and frustrating and gorgeous and now she won't even talk to me!" Sirius leaned his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes. "Fuck me," he groaned as the fireplace roared.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," said Fabian, as he brushed off the ashes from the Floo. "Hello, love." He pulled Remus in for a sweet kiss before he unclasped his cloak and dropped it on the back of a nearby chair and turned to Sirius. "Bad day?"

"Women," muttered Remus, a small smile on his face.

"Ah," said Fabian. He pulled three glasses from the sidebar and poured three firewhiskys. "Not much for 'em myself. Have you tried talking to her?"

Sirius glared at the redheaded man as he took the drink from him.

"We've already moved to whether or not he should cut his losses or figure out the best way to grovel."

"Mmm." Fabian shot his drink back in a single pull. "If Hermione is anything like Remus—swotty, romantic, occasionally self-depricating—then chocolates, flowers, and a heartfelt apology letter will go a long way."

"Does everyone know I'm into Hermione?" growled Sirius.

"I'm also partial to lots of really great sex," said Remus.

* * *

"Do you mind if I join you?"

Sirius looked up to see his enemy-cum-friend-cum-pain-in-the-ass standing over him. He gestured to the chair across from him and looked back down to his revision.

The blond raised an eyebrow. "History of Magic?"

Sirius scowled. He didn't want to be reminded of the absence of one curly-haired witch who had made History of Magic surprisingly fun and interesting.

"How's my cousin?" Sirius asked nonchalantly.

"Under house arrest. She's also been sanctioned by the Horde."

That got Sirius's attention. He looked up, eyebrows high. "Do you have an estate left?"

Draco nodded solemnly. " _She_ was sanctioned, not me. Her trust from the Black estate was taken in full for the manipulation and attempted theft of the House of Malfoy, as well as for being an accessory to attempted Line Theft. She's completely dependent on the goodwill of her family to live."

"Meaning you and me?" asked Sirius.

"And the Rosiers. Did you know that my grandmother wasn't the only Rosier daughter? Turns out she had a sister that my mother has been in contact with for the past few years; Muriel is the only person who could listen to Mother bemoan her 'unseemly' son without totally compromising what she considered to be my 'future prospects'. Great-Aunt Muriel is apparently the one that put Mother in contact with the Weasley woman."

"Muriel?" asked Draco.

The blond nodded. "Muriel Rosier. She married a Prewett. When both her great nieces started bitching about finding an 'appropriate' match for their kids, she invited them both to tea and _Voila!_ I'm potioned into making out with a ginger." The blond exaggerated a shudder. "A _girl_ ginger."

"Also emotionally destroying your fiancé and best friend and losing your legal and financial autonomy, not to mention your free will, but yeah, focus on the snogging." Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Speaking of my best friend…"

Sirius threw his arms on the desk, his head following with a dull _thud._

"She seems to think that you were only interested in her because she was no longer a contract surrogate for Harry and me." Draco's voice was low so they wouldn't be overheard, but it wasn't harsh. The blond paused for a moment, and if Sirius had looked up he would've seen Draco's head cocked to the side, examining the frustrated animagus. "I told her that couldn't possibly be true, since you knew Harry and I would get back together."

Sirius stayed silent.

"After all, what kind of person beats another to a bloody pulp and then, a week later, looks in on him in the infirmary after a basic potions mishap? I didn't really think about it until Hermione explained why she wasn't speaking to you, but there was no reason for you to be checking on me in the infirmary unless you know what the flushing draught would do. Which means you knew I'd been potioned; you were probably responsible for me being dosed with Shrinking Solution in the first place, right?"

Sirius looked up and scowled. Draco was smiling smugly, looking every inch like his stupid git of a father.

"You planning on pressing charges for potioning a Head of House?" Sirius tried to keep the concern out of his voice, but a small bit escaped. He didn't think Draco would send him to Azkaban, since Sirius effectively freed him from Narcissa and Ginny, but Malfoys were almost as crazy as Blacks, so there was no telling.

Draco laughed loudly, a far cry from the hushed tones of their conversation so far.

"I thought about sending you a fruit basket. But after talking with Hermione, I figured the best thing I could do was help you get back in her good graces."

* * *

"Are you _sure_ , Hermione? It's just… based on everything Dad and Uncle Remus have said, that doesn't sound like Sirius at all. He ran away from the Black family before getting sucked into all that pureblood shit."

The witch in question was tucked into Harry's arm, her head resting against his chest. They were curled up in the Slytherin Common Room, having decided to supervise Pansy's dressing-down of Draco. The blond wizard admitted that everyone deserved a change to yell and air their grievances, but Pansy was a ruthless witch and he didn't want to end up castrated.

"I don't believe in coincidences, Harry. I was emotionally vulnerable, and it was very clear I wouldn't be locked into the surrogacy contract any longer. The timing was too perfect to not be related."

"You like him." It wasn't a question.

She nodded. "He's different than the boys I know. Don't take this the wrong way, but he's like a young, hot version of your dad and Remus combined. Clever, fun, challenging. He has all the characteristics that I admired in Theo, but with Sirius there's also this indescribable pull…"

"Like your magic likes him?"

She nodded again. "I thought we had a connection, though I didn't _actually_ expect anything to come of it. He said some things over Yule that indicated he was more conservative about the surrogacy than everyone else. But I'll admit to harboring a tiny little flame of hope after we came back to school. With the study groups and History of Magic tutoring things just seemed… But then everything fell to pieces and _then_ he asked? It's too neat."

"If you're right, he's a git and we'll all hex him. But maybe you should hear him out before you write him off forever? After all"—Harry's eyes roamed to Draco, who was standing with a contrite look on his face while Pansy called him a "bratty-self-entitled-Eagle-who'd-never-last-a-day-in-Slytherin-not-least-of-which-because-his-harpy-of-a-mother-had-gotten-the-drop-on-his-moronic-ass"—"if Sirius hadn't convinced me to listen to Draco I would probably still hate him. I'd have let my self-preservation deny me the most wonderful thing in my life."

Harry went to heal his love from a particularly nasty stinging hex, and Hermione frowned.

* * *

Two days later, Hermione bounded into Potions study group completely immersed in her notes.

"Since you weren't here last week, Draco, I think we should go ahead and review the variations on Dittany. We obviously went over it, but we were a little stuck on…"

The door slammed behind her, and she heard a muffled _Colloportus_. She looked up to see the wizard she'd been avoiding seated at their table, a box, a bunch of flowers, and a piece of parchment in front of him.

No one else was in the room.

She immediately turned cast an _Alohomora_ on the door.

Nothing.

She turned to Sirius. "Let me out."

He shrugged. "I didn't lock you in here."

She turned back to the door and yelled, "Let me out, assholes!"

Someone slipped a folded piece of parchment under the door. She picked it up and unfolded it.

Harry's jagged scrawl read _'Just shut up and listen to him. It worked out for me, didn't it?'_

Underneath, Draco's more elegant script continued _'If I deserve a second chance, doesn't he?'_

Neville rounded out the boys' contributions. _'And if he doesn't, I can always punch him again.'_

Pansy's feminine hand was at odds with her advice. _'Merlin, just shag the fucker. Even if he's still a dick afterward, you'll get laid. And you need it, Hermione.'_

But it was Luna who, ironically, made the most sense. _'This is the only way to get rid of the wrackspurts.'_

Hermione frowned, folded the parchment and shoved it in her bag, and sat across from Sirius. "Fine."

The dark haired wizard looked grim and tense and maybe a little upset. Hermione refused to look him in the eye—that was always a mistake, as she found herself contemplating the slight differences between pewter and gunmetal. She also avoided his lips, his cheekbones, his shoulders…

She looked away at the wall. The wall was a safe bet.

Sirius cleared his throat. "I need you to pick one." He gestured to the objects in front of him.

Hermione glanced over and nodded toward the parchment.

"Right." Sirius started muttering spells over the yellowed paper. Hermione's curiosity got the best of her, and she focused not on the safe wall but on the attractive wizard doing intricate spell work in front of her.

"What are you doing?" she finally asked.

"Just… just one more minute," he muttered. He flicked his wand one finally time and grinned. "There!"

Hermione stared down at the blank parchment, and then slowly looked back at Sirius, unamused.

"Right. Tap your wand and say, 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good.'"

Her eyes went wide. She'd heard about the Marauder's Map from James and Remus, but as professors they hadn't felt they could hand it down to Harry, Dorea, and Orion.

She did as instructed, and watched the infamous words appear before her.

 _Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs…_

Hermione's eyes widened at the next part.

… _along with Mlle. Lady present the Marauder's Map_.

She watched the castle appear on the front of the parchment, the tiny lettering moving along with the students and professors. She looked up at Sirius, her mouth agape.

"See, I couldn't explain everything because it was a Marauder secret. But I figured if I made you a Marauder, you could know the secret. James and Remus agree, of course, although I'm sure Harry will be put out he wasn't the first of the new generation. Anyway, now that you're a Marauder, with a name and everything, I can tell you about our most recent prank."

And then he launched into the story of Draco's potioning, of how they had to keep their plan to save him a secret, of how terrible he felt watching her and Harry and everyone upset. He apologized for his shitty timing and for tainting the return of her best friend with his idiocy.

"So, to recap, I'm sorry I'm an idiot, but I do really like you and even if you still don't want to go to Hogsmeade with me—which you totally should—I'd like to be friends again."

Hermione sat, mouth still slightly agape, as Sirius looked up at her with those grey eyes that she just couldn't escape. He looked apologetic and hopeful and earnest, and her heart fluttered.

Finally, when her brain had processed everything and finally started moving at a normal pace, she stood up and made her way around the table. Sirius stood, hands in his pockets to hide his nerves.

She frowned and punched him in the left shoulder.

"Ow!" he cried.

"You idiot," she muttered. And then she threw her arms around his neck, stood up on her tip toes, and kissed him soundly.

* * *

An hour later, Harry knocked on the classroom door. "Hermione? Sirius? Are you both still alive?"

Luna smiled sweetly. "Oh yes. They're just fine."

Sirius opened the door, his lips and cheeks red and his hair mussed. Behind him, Hermione was surreptitiously smoothing out her rumpled uniform.

"Did you all get everything worked out?" asked Draco, raising an eyebrow at Hermione and smirking.

She returned his smirk, coming up behind Sirius and grabbing the animagus's hand. "Oh yes, you meddlers."

"I'm glad the wrackspurts are gone," said Luna brightly. "You both look much happier without them." She turned to Draco. "It's nice to have everyone back."

Draco hugged Luna from behind and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "Thanks, Luna."

"Hey! Get your own!" cried Pansy, shoving the blond wizard away and tucking her girlfriend into her torso. "This one's mine."

Draco turned to grab Harry. "Dibs."

Harry's eyes went watery and he pulled Draco in for a searing kiss. Neville groaned and muttered something about being a seventh wheel and bringing Susan around more often.

"Oh for fuck's sake," groaned Pansy. "You could've kept him in the dog house for a little while, Potter."

"Come off it Pans, he was potioned by his mother," said a laughing Sirius. "He kissed _Ginny Weasley_. He deserves nothing but sympathy for that."

"He was still a twat," the witch muttered.

Hermione nodded. "A very big twat. And he's going to make it up to us."

Draco pulled back and looked at Hermione. "I am?"

She nodded. "You are."

He narrowed his eyes. "How?"

* * *

"This is cruel and unusual punishment," sighed Draco. Though the group would eventually pair off and go their separate ways for some romance, it had been decided that Draco's apology to them all would take place at Tomes and Scrolls that Hogsmeade weekend. It was the first stop of the day, and the crew had already been shopping for a half and hour. Behind Draco was a stack of books almost as tall as he was, levitated half a meter off the floor. Harry, Hermione, and Pansy had been adding to the stack indiscriminately, and while their purchases wouldn't make a dent in the Malfoy vaults they were giving the effort everything the had. Luna and Neville had thrown in a few volumes for good measure.

Sirius was just enjoying the show. He also wasn't at all opposed to the way Hermione's skirt raised up when she reached for books on high shelves. In fact, he was looking forward to introducing her to the library at Grimmauld Place. He could envision snogging her against the shelves, letting his hands wonder to the hem of her skirt, where they would slowly creep…

Sirius was shaken out of his fantasy when Hermione tossed Draco another book. The blond glanced at the title and narrowed his eyes. "Don't you already have a copy of _Lies About Lycanthropy_?"*

Hermione nodded. "Yes, but this is the newest edition. Remus had added an entire section on recent Wizengamot legislation and developments in Wolfsbane, and there's an exciting discussion of the transmission of lycanthropy outside of the full moon from an expert in France!"

"So you've already read it?"

She glared back at him. "I've discussed it briefly with Remus, and I've been looking forward to reading the new parts in full, and do I need to remind you of all the horrid things you said to me while you were under the influence?"

Draco blushed and levitated the book to the top of the stack. Pansy tossed him another one.

"Oh, come on!" cried Draco.

Sirius glanced at the colorful book's title and barked out a laugh.

 _If the Broomstick Fits: An Illustrated Guide to Pleasing the Witch in Your Life_

* * *

 _*Lies About Lycanthropy_ is the title of Remus Lupin's monograph on werewolves, taken from shayalonnie's amazing epic _The_ _Debt of Time_.


End file.
